


You will be the death of me

by Aync1lgw



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Espionage, Eventual Relationships, Gen, Gun Violence, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma Friendship, Martial Arts, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Kageyama Tobio, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, POV Multiple, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Protective Kageyama Tobio, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Tension, Thriller, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aync1lgw/pseuds/Aync1lgw
Summary: The high-stake game of espionage, terrorism and gang wars left no room for mistakes. With multiple lives on the line, Shimizu Kiyoko had no choice but to send in her heavy hitters: A 6-member squad, with team lead Oikawa Tooru.However, everything goes south from the moment they get dragged into something more than they signed up for.~ or~In the profession they chose, there is no second chance.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou/Yachi Hitoka, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 18
Kudos: 79





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. This is my first Haikyuu fan fiction. It is going to be a multi chapter fic and this is just the prologue. This is set in an alternate universe: secret agents and spies, infiltration, espionage, assassination attempts, jail break.. you get the picture. The characters are all older as well.. I would put them to be in their late 20s or early 30s. 
> 
> Comments are always welcome.

_ **Prologue** _

Kageyama's heart was pounding, as he skidded to a halt, looking down a long, deserted corridor made entirely of black glass, rising from floor to the ceiling.

He had managed to haul the limp body across his shoulder, ignoring his legs which were screaming in protest as he had pushed himself to run, the flickering glow of the broken fluorescent lights on the ceiling casting pale shadows on the wall. His mind was already spiraling into chaos, the terror that he had so successfully been holding back, threatening to overcome him any second.

Gritting his teeth to prevent himself from screaming in pain, Kageyama’s grip on the Uzi submachine gun tightened, his breaths coming in painful gasps. Hundreds of scenarios were running in his head and almost all of them led to his death.. to their deaths. He hesitated, the blood running down his arm making his grip slick on the gun, precious seconds ticking by.

"Uhh…" 

Kageyama's heart almost stopped.

"Oikawa San!" he breathed in.

Kageyama painfully put Oikawa down on his feet, propping him up against the wall. Oikawa staggered, opening his eyes blearily, using the wall to support himself, and Kageyama watched in disbelief as he gave him a weak smile.

“You look like shit” Oikawa slurred, blood seeping down through the cuts on his forehead and most definitely a broken nose.

“I am surprised you can still see with your eye swollen shut” Kageyama responded, a wave of powerful relief washing over him so suddenly it almost made him dizzy.

Oikawa laughed and immediately doubled over, groaning in pain.

"Hang on." Kageyama gripped him by the shoulder. “We need to get out of here. Can you move?”

“Who do you think you are talking to?” Oikawa hissed. “It’s a hundred years too early for you to start worrying over me.”

Kageyama had heard that steel in his voice countless times before, knew exactly what it meant, knew exactly what madness that man was capably of and it reminded him again for the hundredth time why Oikawa Tooru was such a force to reckon with. Kageyama nodded, bending down and pulling the Glock 26 strapped onto his ankle and handing it to Oikawa without a word.

And then it happened. With a loud crash, the doors at the end of the corridor were blasted off their hinges, the force of the blast throwing Kageyama off his feet, slamming him hard against the side of the wall. He fell on to the floor in a heap, the wind knocked out of him. All around him, the glass windows shattered, a sudden rush of wind howling in, blowing dust, debris and glass, mixed with the acrid smell of explosives. His grip on the Uzi didn’t loosen. Years of training kicked into place as his body reacted on its own, rolling to the side and crouching on one knee, opening fire at the gaping end of the corridor which used to be a door.

Bullets zinged past him, merely missing him by millimeters, puffs of dust splattering from the floor where the bullets lodged themselves. In the mere seconds that it took for him to react, Oikawa had already taken down two of the dark figures at the other end and another one right through the left eye. Kageyama’s bullet tore through another shadowed figure, and he saw it lurch, collapsing on the floor, the red splash of blood visible through the dust.

Even as they both scrambled to duck behind the wall for cover, Kageyama could already hear the frantic footsteps piling in. A dozen black clad figures came streaming out of the now demolished corridor, their guns blazing. And Kageyama knew it was too late; they were hopelessly outnumbered and no matter what sort of a monster Oikawa was, even he wouldn’t be able to handle so many, not when he was already so severely injured.

"Tobio chan!" Oikawa bellowed, the only warning Kageyama got as Oikawa rushed towards him, flinging his right arm across his shoulder, grabbing him firmly and pushing them backwards. Kageyama’s stomach lurched as he realized what Oikawa was doing but there was no time to argue. He turned on the spot, his gun still firing, and he followed Oikawa, taking a running leap and flinging himself out the broken glass window, pummeling straight down from the 21st floor.

Even as the winds rushed him, gravity eagerly pulling him down to his death, he could still hear Oikawa’s mad laughter booming up his ears.


	2. And so it begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos! I am excited to see some interest in this concept.. I admit I am nervous about writing this but I am keeping my fingers crossed :)
> 
> The next few chapters will introduce a lot of characters, so they might seem a bit slow. It is needed in order to set up the story line so please bear with me.
> 
> As for update frequency, I will try to update at least once a week and I am hoping to finish this off within 20 chapters. The chapters won't be too long so don't be scared :) 
> 
> Please leave your comments and feedback. :)   
> 
> 
> And so, without further ado... here is the next chapter!

* * *

Tendou Satori sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. He knew something was wrong the moment he saw that code flash on the encrypted device screen, his senses immediately on heightened alert. He was among one of the few agents who were part of this mission and on that night, he was left to oversee the only defensive safe house located in the vicinity. What he hadn’t expected however, was a bloodied Kageyama showing up with an equally battered Oikawa at 3 in the morning.

Running his hands through his disheveled hair, he looked down at the sedated form of Oikawa Tooru on the makeshift hospital bed, marveling at how this man was still breathing. He had a broken nose, three bruised ribs, multiple flesh wounds and lacerations, two gunshot wounds to the leg and one to his shoulder, where the bullets had cleanly torn though his muscles and tendons, barely missing the bones. His face was a mess with crusted blood that Tendou tried his best to wipe clean, carefully bandaging the swollen left eye, blue and yellow bruises scattered all over his injured face.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he also had to deal with a frustrated Kageyama Tobio pacing up and down the floor for what seemed like ages. Tendou sighed again, the steady beat of the heart rate monitors the only sounds muffling out Kageyama’s footsteps.

* * *

With the initial surge of adrenaline finally fading away, Kageyama’s body was now screaming in pain; pain that he had been able to ignore till then. He slumped down on the nearest chair, his stiff bandaged arm banging painfully against the arms rest.

However, his heart was still pounding; that blind leap of faith from the building to escape their deaths had left him drained. He had landed on the rooftop below, pain shooting up his ankles, as he had rolled his body forward along with the momentum of their jump to try to minimize the impact to his legs. From the corner of his eye, he had seen Oikawa already on his feet, running towards the edge.

Kageyama had followed and there were a few seconds when the howling wind and his labored breaths were the only sounds in his ears, but it was shattered immediately as a barrage of bullets struck the ground beneath their feet. Those few seconds of head start had been enough for them to reach the edge of the roof and leap over the ledge to land at the rooftop below, but not enough before a bullet tore through Oikawa’s shoulder and spun him in the air, the impact throwing him off center.

Kageyama had lunged instinctively, grabbing Oikawa by the arm and pulling him forward. He remembered how Oikawa’s blood seeping through his fingers felt strangely warm in the cool air. Hauling Oikawa up on his feet, he had both staggered down the rooftop and… and.. 

Everything else was a blur…

The next thing he knew, he was at the safe house and Tendou Satori was staring at him grimly, as Kageyama swayed on the spot, blood loss slowly making him dizzy but his hands still holding Oikawa slumped across his side.

The sound of footsteps broke his thoughts, bringing him sharply to the present. For a second his body tensed before he remembered where he was. He sighed and watched Tendou walking in, discarding his gloves and mask, making his way over to where Kageyama lay slumped on the chair.

“I contacted headquarters” Kageyama said. Tendou nodded and leaned over him, poking the sling that he had created for Kageyama’s left arm. He took out his pencil torch and pushing Kageyama’s head back, pulled open his eye lid, flashing the light, watching his pupil contract.

“I bet Tsukishima Kun won’t be happy” he replied, putting the torch back in his pocket and inspecting the bandage on Kageyama’s shoulder for any signs of blood seeping through.

Kageyama snorted. “He won’t be the only one.”

Months of intelligence and undercover surveillance was undone in just one night. A carefully laid out plan was blown to smithereens, and if the mole they had placed in the organization had not been able to contact Kageyama in time, they could have lost his partner tonight.

“You barging in with a submachine gun won’t go well with Kiyoko San either.” Tendou said lightly, and watched as Kageyama’s eyes flashed in anger, just for a brief second... and just like that it was gone. “Not that I am complaining” Tendou added, “You probably saved his life.”

“I owe him my life” Kageyama replied, his jaw clenched tight; “I would gladly throw it away for him.”

Tendou didn’t say anything.

* * *

Sugawara Koushi wanted to think of himself as a patient man, a man of logic, someone who doesn’t give into emotional outbursts. He needed a calm and calculating mind in this business and he had seen countless incidents where things had dangerously gone out of hand when one lost their patience.

That night however, he found his patience running thin.

“So..” he muttered, kneading his temple with his knuckles, trying to get rid of a pressure headache he could sense coming. “One man did all this.”

The guard swallowed hard, fear prickling down his throat. “Yes... aahh… no”

Sugawara moved before he could stop himself, the high kick catching the guard on his chin, knocking him off the floor and sending him crumpling down in a heap. He crouched over the fallen form and grabbed him by his collar, jerking his head near as he growled “Yes or no? Which one is it?”

The guard coughed, blood spilling down his mouth as he spluttered, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. “It was one initially” he stuttered, bloody spit flecking onto Sugawara’s immaculate white shirt cuffs. “But then there were two.”

Sugawara let him go in disgust, the guard’s head hitting the floor with a sickening crunch.

He breathed in, trying to calm down, the wind tousling his silver hair.

The shattered debris had settled down but the howling wind blowing in through the broken glass brought in the cool stillness of the night, mixed in with the lingering smell of blood and gun powder. He walked over the broken glass to peer down the side of the corridor, looking down the city skyline, a vast expanse of darkness below him, the wind threatening to sweep him overboard. The surrounding rooftops below stood out starkly against the darkness, at least 3 stories below where he was standing.

As comprehension dawned on him, he couldn’t help but chuckle, a spike of adrenaline twisting his face into an uncontrollable sneer.

“Get me Sakusa Kiyoomi” he snapped. " And make it fast"

He stood there, watching the city skyline, his brain running on overdrive.

* * *

Hinata Shouyou wanted the simple things in life: family, friends and, if possible, the love of his life. Unfortunately, fate had other plans in store for him and that was the reason why he was now sitting in front of a dango shop, dusk just settling in over the busy market square, with its hundreds of street food vendor stalls lining up the sidewalks. He stuffed a dango in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, his rust brown eyes which almost gleamed orange in the flickering street lights, leisurely scanning the throng of evening revelers. He sighed, propped forward and laid his head down on the table in front of him, facing the clock tower to watch the big seconds hand slowly tick his life away.

“When is that bastard going to show up?”, he fumed, irritated.

Suddenly, from the top of the clock tower, a tiny glint of something reflecting off the light of the last remnants of the setting sun caught the corner of his eye. He immediately stiffened and jerked up straight, his horror at the realization of what it was had not even sunk in when he could hear the soft thunk of a bullet hitting the table at the exact spot where his head had been a few seconds ago.

Hinata scrambled back, toppling over backwards from his chair. Four more bullets sunk into the ground around him in quick succession, raising small puffs of dust as he scurried on his feet, his heart in his mouth.

It was a sniper, his brain screamed as he frantically got on his feet and made a mad dash into the throng of people. They wouldn’t dare take a shot with so many people around, he thought grimly, pushing his way in, holding his head low, trying to blend in with the crowd. In his panic, he almost didn't notice the man dressed in black coming straight towards him, till he was at least 15 feet away. Hinata slowed and stopped; but the man in front of him did not, and it was only then that Hinata raised his eyes to see that the man had his face hidden behind a black balaclava.

Hinata cursed, quickly turning back to find two other men approaching him from behind. He was effectively closed off from both sides. With a sniper aiming at his head and a narrow alleyway to his left, he immediately realized it was a set-up. That alley was a dead end.

He gritted his teeth. They were planning to trap him like a rat in the alley from the very beginning.

He would take his chances, he thought fiercely and throwing caution to the wind, he dashed into the alley, his right hand already pulling up the old Beretta M9 strapped onto his waist band under his shirt and his left hand unsheathing the 6-inch stainless steel combat knife.

“Come and get it”, he whispered, his eyes glinting as he screeched to a halt at the end of the alley and turned to face the three men, his back against the wall.

* * *


	3. The calm before the storm...

* * *

Hinata crouched down, his right hand with the semi-automatic aimed straight, his left hand holding the combat knife across his chest in a reverse grip, edge out. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow dusty alley, taking in the empty wooden cartons piled high onto either side. Taking in a deep breath, Hinata focused on the footsteps, three sets that moved cautiously and he counted down the seconds silently in his head, the sound of the footsteps coming in closer and closer around the corner, boxing him in.

He had to finish this quickly, he realized, his finger tightening on the trigger; the longer this dragged on, the higher were his chances of getting killed. Hinata gritted his teeth, his body tensed like a coiled spring, adrenaline spiking his heart rate through the roof.

The footsteps stopped and it was like someone had blown a whistle to start the game.

His body moved instinctively, as soon as two of the masked men stepped into the narrow alley, their weapons drawn. A dozen bullets were fired in quick succession in the few seconds it took for Hinata to move to the right and using one of the empty cartons as leverage, fling himself up in the air. He landed on top of the wooden carton and immediately ran up the other carton piled on top of the first one just in time to see the bullets lodge on to the brick wall in front of which he was standing seconds ago. He looked down at the two assailants, his body already in motion. He kicked against the wall with his right leg and using the force as momentum, he leapt high across the alley and suddenly he was airborne. He could see the two men look up at him in surprise, their hands moving almost in slow motion to level their guns up at him.

Too late, Hinata smirked, as he twisted in midair, squeezing the trigger of his Beretta. Two bullets hit the masked man in the front, the first one tearing through the hand that was holding the gun aimed at Hinata and the second bullet shattering his right knee cap. He went down in a howl of pain, the gun scattering from his maimed hand just as Hinata landed on top of the second assailant, his feet slamming down hard on the shoulders of the masked man even as his knife ripped open his throat simultaneously.

They both toppled over but Hinata was instantly on his feet, sprinting forward to take three running steps up the wall in front of him, his gun already aimed towards the third assailant who stepped into the alley, guns firing. A hail of bullets shattered the cartons; fragments and splinters of wood flying everywhere. Hinata pulled the trigger, the recoil from his M9 almost nonexistent and watched the bullet hit the man right in the middle of the forehead, the body crumpling to the floor like a ragdoll. The sudden silence that filled the air was almost deafening, the sound of the gun clattering on to the pavement from cold lifeless fingers sounding like a thunderclap. 

Hinata stood there, his heartbeat roaring up his eardrums. Sheathing his knife back, he walked towards the man whom he had intended to take alive for questioning but he knew before he even saw the body that there was no way he could have survived the barrage of bullets that the third assailant had let loose moments ago. He sighed, crouching down on his feet in front of the body and removed the balaclava, hoping to be able to identify him. An unremarkable face stared back at him, eyes glassy and lifeless, the edge of a black tattoo peeking up from the side of his neck. Pulling the collar of the dead man’s shirt back, Hinata stared. A tattoo of a black owl glared back at him.

The sign of the Fukurodani Mercenaries.

_Well, Fuck!_ Hinata swore.

* * *

Tsukishima Kei squinted at the laptop screen. His eyes were burning, and he could feed the headache getting worse with each passing minute. He had been at it for hours now, the cups of coffee and energy drinks piling up on his table a solemn witness to the sleepless night that he had already spent going over the case details with a fine-toothed comb. At the back of his mind, he knew he should have collapsed hours ago but the rage and fear in his body kept him going as the seconds ticked by. He could still remember his skin crawling in dread when the code red alert had gone off and how he had scrambled on to his feet and ran behind Ushijima San as they had both sprinted towards the chief’s office, expecting the worst.

The incoming video conference call blinked slowly at the corner of his screen and Tuskishima was jerked back from his thoughts. He put on his headphones and clicked on the accept icon and the person on the other end of the screen slowly came into focus. Even though the room on the other side was dimly lit, he could still clearly see the haggard face looking back at him.

Kageyama looked worse than Tsukishima felt.

“King”, he mumbled. “You look like shit.”

“I have heard that before”, Kageyama replied, his weary eyes peering back at him through the camera.

“Of course, you have”, Tsukishima sighed. He removed his glasses and tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes, finally beginning to feel the aftereffects of the insane amount of caffeine that he had ingested in the past 24 hours.

“Any leads yet?”

“Not yet.” He responded, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I have gone through the case files over and over again, dissected every intelligence we had gathered and...”

“And…?”

“And nothing…” Tsukishima groaned, frustration lacing his voice. “I can’t find anything!”

A heavy silence fell.

“Oikawa San is supposed to meet up with his informant next week.” Tsukishima offered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I know” Kageyama nodded. “That might give us some lead; however, a week is too long to wait. We might be caught off-guard again.”

“I can sense you are planning something” Tsukishima said cautiously. “You know what Shimizu San said yesterday…”

“I know” Kageyama snapped. “I was there.”

“Look King”, Tsukishima tried again. “We cannot be reckless here; think of this as a tactical retreat. We need to gather and vet our information first. Before we do anything else, we need to regroup…”

“Yes, Kiyoko San communicated that very effectively last night” Kageyama sighed, deflated.

“Plus, it’s not like we are not doing anything.” Tsukishima continued. “Kuroo San and Sawamura San still have their eyes on their target.”

“Yeah” Kageyama nodded.

Tsukishima decided to change the subject.

“How is Oikawa San doing?”

“Tendou San gave him some pretty strong pain killers and he’s still knocked out. It has been less than 24 hours, but he looks to be breathing easier, so I guess that is a good thing.”

Tsukishima found himself gritting his teeth in anger and he could see his anger mirrored on Kageyama’s bruised face. Whoever did this to Oikawa better start counting their days for they were going to make sure there was hell to pay.

However, as Tsukishima ended the call, he realized that if Kageyama got to them first, only God could save those poor bastards.

* * *

Oikawa groaned, the dull pounding in his head threatening to split his skull in two. Dizziness overcame him immediately, his eyelids heavy as lead, his mouth feeling as if it was full of ash. Groggily he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his body refused to listen to him.

He could hear movement around him, and rough hands gently held him, adjusting the pillows behind him, propping him up.

“Oikawa San?”

He opened his eyes painfully and Kageyama’s face floated into his vision.

“Why am I still alive Tobio Chan?” He croaked; his throat raw.

Kageyama held out a glass of water and when Oikawa tried to extend his right hand, he found he couldn’t. Disoriented, his eyes traveled down his bandaged arm, firmly attached to a sling around his neck. He raised his right eyebrow at Kageyama questioningly.

“You got shot through that shoulder.”

“Ahh...” Oikawa signed. “I remember.”

“Bruised ribs, gunshot wounds to your legs and shoulder, swollen left eye, broken nose... nothing serious.” Kageyama concluded.

“Right.”

Oikawa awkwardly held the glass of water with his left hand, trying to bring it closer to his mouth. Kageyama eyed him for a second and then reached out, taking the glass from Oikawa’s hand and holding it closer to his face. Oikawa gratefully took a gulp of water, draining it down completely.

“You seem to be doing better” Oikawa eyed the bandages wrapped around Kageyama’s arm and shoulder and winced slightly at the bruises that stood out starkly against the pale skin of his face.

“Compared to how you look, I think I am doing excellent.” Kageyama replied, taking the empty glass away. “Of course, you look no better than a corpse so that’s saying something.”

Oikawa chuckled, a dull flare of pain hitting him as he remembered too late about his bruised ribs.

“How long have I been out?’ He groaned, shutting his eyes, wincing.

“More than 24 hours” Kageyama responded. 

Oikawa groaned again.

“Ushijima San and Shimizu San are not happy I take it?”

“There were some problems”, Kageyama hesitated.

Oikawa rolled his eyes and Kageyama continued. “They are trying to find out where the information leak came from and who set us up.”

“Bet Tsukishima Kun is having a field day” Oikawa sulked. “I am surprised Ushijima San didn’t have anything to say to you about your unplanned rescue attempt.” He added lightly.

Kageyama went quiet for a few seconds, his face impassive.

“Word is out that they put a hit on you” Kageyama finally said, completely ignoring Oikawa’s statement.

Oikawa chuckled again, regretting it almost immediately as pain flared up his torso.

“Mr. Refreshing must have gotten hold of Sakusa Kiyoomi.” Oikawa sighed.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Kageyama clench his fist tightly and he was sure it would leave nail marks on the insides of his palms.

Oikawa pretended not to notice.

* * *

The atmosphere inside the arena was electric as thousands and thousands of people roared in unison, waiting for the championship to begin. Yacchi Hitoka sat above the gallery, looking down from behind bulletproof glass windows, her lips curled around a cigarette. She blew out a smoke ring, her gold bangles jangling as she flicked the ash from her cigarette onto the diamond encrusted ash tray.

A knock on the door.

Aone Takanobu looked at her and she gave a slight nod. Her giant bodyguard strode over to the door, but Yacchi’s attention was glued to the arena below, as she slightly leaned forward to catch the change in the atmosphere as the lights began to dim.

“Hitoka San”

Yacchi sighed; only one person would call her that.

“Miya Atsumu”

Miya chuckled, sitting down on the seat next to her.

“I can see you have some business to talk about”, Yacchi said, eyeing him warily. “Can it wait till this gets over?”

“Of course!” he smiled, turning to look down at the arena. “Honestly, I just wanted to see this through the best seats in the house.”

Yacchi snorted.The cheering below had quieted down by now, an excited hush settling over, the air around them tingling with anticipation. She sucked into the cigarette again, inhaling the smoke, savoring the burn in her lungs before blowing it out into another smoke ring.

“Well...” she smiled, her eyes glinting dangerously in the dimmed shadows. “Let me show it to you then.”

She turned towards him as the arena was plunged into darkness and the huge display on top of the ring lit up the side of her face.

“Welcome to the championship for the Battle of the Garbage Dump.”

* * *


	4. Rolling the dice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“They put a hit out on a government agent?”, Tendou Satori wondered aloud, watching the facial muscles on Tsukishima’s face tighten. “These guys are not kidding around eh?”

“It’s not the first time”, Tsukishima deadpanned.

“Exactly!” Tendou exclaimed. “I almost feel sorry for them!”

Tsukishima gave him a disapproving look but Tendou was too busy chuckling to himself to notice.

Looking at the tall lanky frame of Tendou Satori and the sadistic vibe that he exuded, it was hard to tell that he was an experienced field surgeon that served in the Military Corps during the war at a very young age. When the war finally ended and a fragile peace was restored, he was honorably discharged, and he tried to integrate himself back into civilian life. However, he soon started hearing the screams of dying soldiers in his dreams and hallucinating being back on the front lines, surrounded by rotting corpses during the day. In the end, he had to institutionalize himself and get treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder. Ushijima sought him out after he was released and offered him a special position in the agency; he was too valuable an asset for Ushijima to let go and he had to go through bureaucratic and political hell to get Tendou assigned under his division.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Oikawa said, wincing a bit as he walked towards the wall where multiple screens were mounted with Tsukishima’s face staring back at them. “It’s my head on the line here! Feel sorry for me, not them!”

Kageyama noticed how Oikawa limped slightly, his bandages visible from underneath his clothes. For a few moments there in that empty corridor of the building, he was convinced they weren’t going to make it out alive. It was sheer dumb luck, Kageyama realized, that they were sitting there right now.

“Anyway”, Oikawa continued, without missing a beat. “Were you able to get some information on the man that I asked you about?”

Tsukishima nodded. “Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”

The huge screen on the wall behind them lit up with the map of a city and Kageyama walked over to stand in front of it. A red blinking dot hovered around a location and as he watched, the scene zoomed in to show the Arrivals terminal of the International Airport.

“We got reports that Aakashi Keiji’s right hand man was seen entering the county last night.” Tsukishima’s voice floated in from the speakers behind him. “These are footage from airport surveillance and surrounding CCTV cameras.” The pictures were grainy but Kageyama could still see the man walking out of the arrivals terminal and getting into a Benz that was waiting for him at the exit.

“He is here as a speaker at the World Economic Forum”, Tsukishima continued, “Which is just a smokescreen for him to meet directly with the Itachiyama delegates.”

“Ho?” Oikawa smirked, walking over to the screen to take a better look. “The Guardian Deity finally decides to show his face to us mere mortals.”

“He didn’t leave any trail for us to follow”, Tsukishima zoomed in on the still image of the man in question, a black fedora hat pulled low over his head, obscuring his face. Simultaneously a picture of a man with spiky black hair and blonde fringes falling over his forehead popped up to the side. “But word is out on the streets that he is the one who has been pulling the strings behind the scene for Akaashi.”

“That is a mild way of putting it.” Tendou commented, his eyes gleaming.

“Can we pull up the list of the attendees for the conference?” Kageyama asked and immediately a long list with several high-profile names popped up on the screen.

“Johzenji’s CEO will be in attendance”, Oikawa commented, as his eyes scanned down the list, remnants of a plan already forming at the back of his mind.

“Oikawa San.” Kageyama looked at him and Oikawa realized they were both thinking the same thing.

Oikawa nodded.

“Tsukishima Kun, I will need you to make some arrangements.”

* * *

The tall towers of the company corporate office of Johzenji stood out in stark contrast to all the buildings surrounding it. There was an observation deck on the 65th floor and any time of the day, it was common to find tourists and locals alike thronging the lobby below, packing up the elevators, the shrill voice of the tour guides filling up the air. That was the public entrance, sealed off from the main building but Yamaguchi Tadashi still eyed them with distaste, his eyes narrowing. He swiped in his badge and walked to the elevator, nodding to the guards as his secretary hurried to catch up behind him. Throwing his empty paper coffee cup into the trash can, he stepped inside the elevator and waited while his secretary pressed the correct floor button and the doors closed, the floor numbers on the keypad lighting up steadily as the elevator ascended.

“Sir?” Hinata Natsu’s voice finally pierced through his thoughts.

Yamaguchi sighed. “I heard you Natsu.”

Natsu gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him.

“As I was saying,” she continued, “Your meeting with the Defense Secretary has been pushed back to next week. I have updated your schedule to reflect the changes.”

Yamaguchi made a non-committed noise in his throat, his hand reaching behind to his back pocket to pull out his cell phone. Nothing yet.

Johzenji corporation was a multinational company, with subsidies located worldwide and the products and services they provided ranged from pharmaceuticals, to commercial airlines manufacturing to weapons manufacturing. They had signed on as a defense contractor with a multi-year contract three years ago with the government to manufacture and supply two of their hi-tech signature weapons to the military: the lightweight semi-automatic handgun and the heavy-duty Assault Rifle.

“Sir... if I may?” Natsu tried again.

Just then the elevator stopped on their floor and Yamaguchi stepped out, walking briskly over to his office, Natsu struggling to keep up with his long strides. The glass windows that made up the walls of the office floor looked out towards the port, a few cargo ship docked and gleaming in the sun. The usual sounds of the workspace surrounded him as he made his way to his corner office suite: the clacking of keyboards, printing machines spewing papers on one corner, desk phones going off, aroma of freshly brewed coffee. A few people going to a conference room for a meeting greeted him as he passed by and gave sympathetic nods to a harried looking Natsu trailing behind him.

“Get someone from Legal, Finance and External Affairs to go over the contract details again.” Yamaguchi said, as he entered his office and took his jacket off, throwing it on the sofa, ignoring the disapproving look on Natsu’s face. “Also get them to provide me with their final report in the next three days.”

Yamaguchi savored in the silence as the door locked behind Natsu, but his peace of mind didn’t last too long. The phone buzzed in his back pocket and his right eye twitched. He fished his phone out and groaned inwardly when he saw the tiny message blurb from an unknown number pop up. Just because he was expecting it, didn’t mean he wasn’t dreading it. No matter how much he respected his senior and the second in command of the Bureau of Criminal Investigation, he still thought Ushijima Wakatoshi was a royal pain in the ass.

He sighed, walking over to his desk.

Might as well get this over with.

* * *

Watching the crowd below, Miya Atsumu could finally admit that Yamaguchi Tadashi had a good business sense. Acquiring the Nekoma team would bring with it all the media rights, licensing, sponsorship, as well as real estate opportunities; not to mention the advertisement revenues that it could generate would be enormous. The only problem here was how to convince Yachi Hitoka to sell the team that she had built from the ground up. At least that was the official reason why he was here.

He had already approached her a couple of times before and the answer had always been the same: “Nekoma is not for sale.”

He ran his hand through his blonde hair, eyes drawn to the semifinal match below in the ring.

The Battle of the Garbage Dump was a two-person tag team martial arts competition and the championship match was a culmination of the month-long event that had seen multiple teams emerge from all over the country to make it to the finals so far. Currently Nekoma and Seijoh were on the ring, the intense match driving the crowd into a frenzy. Miya immediately recognized the player from Nekoma; it was hard not to; his intense fighting style, coupled with the way he seemed to win against all odds had made him a household name. However, that was not the only reason Miya knew him.

He had done his research and he knew that Kozume Kenma was a product of the war; an orphan left to fend for himself when an overnight bombing destroyed his city. Hundreds of people had lost their lives that night, including Kenma’s family but somehow, he had survived; him and the Hinata siblings, Shouyou and Natsu. They had managed to flee, becoming nameless faces among the streams of refugees that flowed into the capital city thirteen years ago. Times were hard and desperate, and they had to do whatever they could, in order to survive.

Kozume and Hinata had quickly built up a reputation on the streets, their name whispered in fear in the criminal underground as the “Demon brothers”. Miya also knew that there was a file in the Bureau of Criminal Investigation with Hinata Shouyou’s name on it.

As he watched the fight unfold before him, Miya could see why Kenma was feared so much and why he was picked up by Yachi. His stoic expression never betrayed his thoughts even as he exchanged blows with his opponent on the ring. He saw him raise his arm to guard against a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at his head. The force of the opponent’s blow threw him across the floor, drawing a blood thirsty roar of approval from the crowd. The Seijoh player was already in a defensive stance, waiting from Kenma to get back up on his feet as the countdown started in the background.

“Iwaizumi Hajime”, Yachi spat, her eyes gleaming in the lights from the ring below. “Why had I not heard about him before?” Miya could see her clench her fists in the dark, crushing the cigarette in her hand. Iwaizumi Hajime had shown up from nowhere, as a replacement on the third round when Seijoh’s official player Kindaichi Yuutaro got injured in that fight. The game rules allowed a substitution if one of the official registered team members got injured and were unable to compete in the future rounds.

“He fights with such precise control” Yachi growled and Miya couldn’t decide whether she was angry or impressed. “It’s so unlike Kenma or any of the other players. His fighting style has an ominous aura around it, it’s almost as if he had been trained to kill.”

Miya Atsumu did his best to keep his face expressionless and averted his eyes away from her face.

* * *

_This is bad,_ Iwaizumi thought, the roar of the crowd filling up the arena. His blood was pounding in his head, the thrill of the battle intoxicating his senses.

_This is bad, this is so bad_ , he breathed in heavily, trying to calm down, reminding himself yet again that he was fighting not for survival this time, but for sport. He had to relax, loosen up, go easy. Winning was not the aim here.

“And Nekoma is back!” The commentator roared, the crowd joining in.

Iwaizumi watched as the Nekoma player staggered up on his feet, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead, only his eyes betraying the excitement that his face was so successfully concealing.

The bell rang for the fight to resume.

Kenma flew in at him with astonishing speed, his right fist pulled back for a punch. Iwaizumi ducked to the left, the punch missing his right ear by mere inches. He countered with a blow aimed at Kenma’s side exactly at the same moment Kenma brought his elbow down onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi staggered at the impact and he could hear the grunt of pain from Kenma as they both jumped back, breathing heavily.

Kenma spun on the spot, lashing out with his right foot, his kick catching the side of Iwaizumi’s leg, bringing him crumpling down to his knees. Before Iwaizumi could recover, Kenma’s hands reached out, grabbed Iwaizumi’s head and slammed it down on his right knee. Iwaizumi saw stars, the taste of blood filling up his mouth. His head reeling from the blow, he instinctively reached out, pulling Kenma’s leg from underneath him, bringing him crashing down on the floor. Iwaizumi pinned him with his left shoulder, his right fist coming in for a blow at Kenma’s exposed throat. Kenma managed to bring his guard up at the last second, catching Iwaizumi’s fist with the palm of his hands, kneeing him at the guts at the same time. He toppled over to the side, wheezing for air.

The clang of the bell ringing to signal the end of the round sounded like a gong next to his ear.

He lay on his back, gasping; the arena lights on the high ceiling almost blinding him, the roar of the crowd deafening. The pain was making it difficult to remain focused on his goal, the blood dripping down his mouth not helping either. He was trying to control his natural instincts, holding himself back as much as he could but he wondered wearily if he would be able to survive that way. Kenma was no joke and he knew at this rate; he would be lucky to walk away with a few broken bones.

He sighed, getting onto his feet, slowly walking over to the corner where he could see Kunimi squinting at him.

He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.

_This is bad._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially I wrote a whole draft on Hinata and Kenma's backstory. And also on Satori's time in the Military. Unfortunately, the drafts became multi chapter fics by themselves so I had to shelve them for the time being. I might be able to post them later as part of a collection of one shots or short multi chapter fics related to this main story line, if enough people are interested :) Please let me know in the comments. Thank you!


	5. Past perfect tense...

* * *

The heat in early autumn always used to remind Sawamura Daichi of his childhood village, how he and his friends used to cool off in the swimming hole, just as summer mellowed down to a more tolerable temperament. That was however years ago, and just like the way people changed around him, the seasons also started changing. Autumns were no longer pleasant as was evident from the way his shirt was sticking to his back, the humidity in the air almost suffocating. He wiped the sweat off his brow and wished for the hundredth time that day that he was in an air-conditioned office building right now. Field work was not his forte, especially surveillance and _especially_ surveillance from an unmarked van hidden in the shadows of the alley, the smell of rotten food and garbage permeating the air even as he shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust his headset.

The van was cramped tight, monitors and video screens lining up one side, the heat radiating off the various equipment making it even more uncomfortable inside. Sawamura’s eyes kept flickering to one of the screens at the top, showing live footage from inside the arena where currently the semi final matches were going on for the Battle of the Garbage Dump. Sawamura frowned. If there was one thing his job had taught him, it was to recognize immediately whether the person who had you cornered was coming at you seriously or not. It came so naturally to him that even from where he was squinting up at the screen, he could easily tell that Iwaizumi Hajime was not trying to win. It couldn’t have been more obvious; the way he was dodging, weaving in and out of his opponent’s reach, only attacking defensively, his jaw clenched tight with the effort it was taking him to keep his self-restraint…

“He’s not really good at acting, is he?” Sawamura groaned.

Through the slight static in his headphones, he could hear Kuroo Tetsuro snort in his ears.

“Can you blame him?” The amusement in Kuroo’s voice barely did anything to reassure Sawamura.

“I blame Oikawa”, Sawamura sighed, the thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud voice of the commentators coming in through the headphones almost drowning out the sound of Kuroo chuckling. 

“Any movement on your side yet?”

“Nothing that I can tell”. Sawamura quickly glanced over the rest of the screens showing the various entrance and exits to the arena. He was at least two blocks down from where the arena was located and where Kuroo was currently at. They had set up surveillance cameras on the outside to track people coming in and going out of the stadium and had deployed two agents on the inside; Kuroo being one of them. According to Tsukishima’s intel, their suspect was supposed to attend the semifinals, in person, and that seemed like the perfect opportunity for them to put a tail on him. They had been tracking their suspect for months now, but that guy was almost like a ghost, much too careful to Sawamura’s dislike. 

_I guess that’s how they survive in this business_ , he thought bitterly, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

He was momentarily distracted by the screen at the upper right again where he saw Iwaizumi’s kick connecting to his opponent’s abdomen; he could almost feel the impact of the blow from where he was sitting in the van. The Nekoma player had doubled over, the wind knocked out of his lungs and at the same time, in one smooth motion, Iwaizumi had spun in the air, hooking his right ankle at the back of his opponents’ neck and slamming his opponent’s face on to the ring as he brought his foot down. 

“Well, color me impressed.” Kuroo let out a low whistle and Sawamura could feel a jolt of anxiety when the Nekoma player didn’t move for a few seconds. The referee started the countdown.

“What was Oikawa thinking?” He wondered aloud, not for the first time. 

“I don’t even want to know.” Kuroo sighed.

Kuroo and Sawamura had been working as part of Oikawa’s team for close to seven years now and in those seven years, Sawamura had lost count of how many close calls they have had and how many times Oikawa had manage to snatch them away from the jaws of death. He knew better than anyone not to doubt Oikawa’s decisions. However, sometimes his plans were so outrageous that it made Sawamura want to go and punch someone on the face. Despite that, he couldn’t help but marvel at how everything eventually falls into place, like a giant puzzle solving itself, and how time and time again, Oikawa had proven himself to be more than capable of handling the team and delivering results.

_Except for that one incident_ , a treacherous voice whispered in his head. A cold shiver ran down his spine as unwelcome memories of the whole Sakusa Kiyoomi mess that happened a couple of years ago flashed through his mind.

“This Nekoma player is something else”, Kuroo’s voice in his headphones broke through his thoughts and he glanced up to see the tall lanky kid with the silver blonde hair finally get back up unsteadily on his feet just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the round. Sawamura recognized his face; Haiba Lev, one of the most promising and upcoming stars in the martial arts scene. He had quickly risen through the ranks before being recruited by Nekoma a couple of years ago, but this was the first time he was representing Nekoma in the competition.

“I see him”, Kuroo suddenly said and the immediate change in his tone told Sawamura exactly what Kuroo meant. He looked up sharply at the screens, his eyes sweeping through the surveillance cameras again. 

“Where is he?” Sawamura asked, hurriedly pulling out his gun to make sure it was loaded. “Do you have him in your sight?”

“Yeah” Kuroo ‘s voice was low over the headphones.

“I am on my way. Don’t do anything stupid.” He could almost see Kuroo roll his eyes as he took his headphones off and scrambled onto his feet.

* * *

There were only a few times in his life when Hinata had felt real terror. The first time was when he was 15 years old and bombs had rained down on his city that fateful night, burning everything to the ground and reducing Hinata’s life to ashes. The second time was when he and Natsu got separated in the throng of refuges; he still remembered the gut-wrenching fear paralyzing his soul when he couldn’t feel Natsu’s grip on his hand anymore. The third time was when Kenma had decided to break all ties with the underworld syndicate they were involved in, putting his own life on the line to do so.

This might just be the fourth time in his life that he was overcome with such terror once again. He had paced up and down the room the whole night, trying to get a grip on himself. The Fukurodani mercenaries were not someone to be taken lightly and the very fact that they had sent three armed assassins after him _and_ a sniper meant that he was in big trouble. And he could only think of one reason why. He glanced at his cell phone on the table, wondering again for the hundredth time if this warranted a call or not. He knew Kenma was scheduled to participate in the tournament today and Natsu had just returned last night from an overseas business trip with her boss; they should both be safe for the time being. But for how long? Will they be targeted next?

Hinata gnawed at his fingernails, worry churning at the pit of his stomach. He was not an idiot and he had been expecting something like this to happen sooner or later. The enormous risk that he was undertaking came with a heavy price to pay. He had made his peace with it and had long ago decided to see it through to the very end, at the cost of life and limb. But only his life, not anyone else’s.

He stopped in front of the table, reaching out to grab his phone and quickly scanning through the contact list, stopping at one name. He bit his lower lip nervously and finally making up his mind, he dialed the number and brought the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand.

* * *

The over the head protective earmuffs that Oikawa wore managed to muffle the sound of the bullets discharging from the 9 mm Glock 17 in his hand, hitting the target cutout precisely at the center of the head 50 yards away. He barely blinked as the target rotated and another one took its place, which immediately disintegrated under the next volley of bullets striking the bullseye yet again. He reloaded the gun, pulled the slide back and released it in the time it took for the next target to slide into place. Target practice had always helped Oikawa regain his focus and sharpen his concentration. The events of the past few days had frayed both his focus and his composure and that was why he was there, at the underground shooting range of the safe house. It had almost become therapeutic for him and it gave him a strange sense of comfort to feel the familiar weight of the Glock in his hand.

It wasn’t like Oikawa was expecting things to go smoothly from the start; plans never worked that way and that was why Oikawa was so good at what he did. The narrow misses and close calls throughout his career had taught him how to adapt to changes and constantly be on his feet; to be able to come up with a new strategy if the old one fails. Most of the time he ended up achieving something even better than what he had originally planned, sometimes at immense risk to his own life, sometimes barely surviving by the skin of his teeth.

Putting his life on the line for the sake of his missions was part of who he was but it was an entirely different story altogether when it came to his team; he didn’t play around with their safety. Granted, in their line of work, there was no guarantee that they would come out alive in the end. However, that did not mean that Oikawa would go around jeopardizing their lives or willingly put them at risk in any way; that was not part of the plan, not now, not ever.

That was why it had hit him so hard when he had woken up disoriented in that corridor with Kageyama’s bloodied face peering into his eyes. He was stupid enough to fall for an enemy trap and he always knew that the price he would have to pay for such a colossal misstep would be huge; he was prepared for it but what he wasn’t prepared for was to accept the fact that his stupidity almost cost him his teammate’s life. It was his mistake which put his partner in such an unnecessarily dangerous situation and forced him to carry out what was effectively a suicide mission.

The worst part was; he couldn’t even fault him for it. He knew with absolute clarity that he would have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed. So really, he was in no position to lecture Kageyama for doing something so outrageous. That’s why, even though he had promised Ushijima that he would reprimand Kageyama for taking such an insane risk, he had been trying to avoid talking about it and had changed the topic of conversation many times whenever he had sensed Kageyama wanting to bring it up. Mainly because he didn’t really know what to say.

However, it seemed like he wouldn’t be able run away from it any longer. From the corner of his eye, he could see Kageyama walk into the shooting range. Oikawa didn’t acknowledge him and instead put his attention back on emptying out the remainder of the bullets into the next target. Oikawa contemplated for a few seconds about pretending to ignore him as he reloaded his gun, but Kageyama had stopped right next to him and he could see from the determined look on Kageyama’s face that he wouldn’t be able to delay this any longer.

Exhaling slowly, he let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. _Oh well, time to act like the team lead._ He lowered his gun and turned to face his colleague.

“Alright, I know what you want to say”, Oikawa began. “But you very well know I cannot condone your actions.”

Kageyama opened his mouth to say something but he cut him off.

“Listen to me, Tobio chan. I am your partner, but I am also the team lead. When a plan goes wrong, you must think logically about the next best steps. Cut your losses to fight another day. What you did instead was something so dangerous – “

“I would rather die than stand there and watch you get killed.” Kageyama hadn’t raised his voice but it effectively shut Oikawa off. Oikawa pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather his thoughts. If he hadn’t known his partner so well, he would have been fooled by the calm and composed look on Kageyama’s face, but he knew very well the anger that was so carefully concealed behind those words. “I am not going to let my team lead get killed. Not again. And not on my watch.”

Not again? Oikawa raised his eyebrow. Oh?

“Tobio chan”, Oikawa said slowly, wondering how to address the topic without bringing up painful reminders from the past. He hesitated, trying to get rid of the bitterness in his next few words “Is this about Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

Oikawa felt a pang of guilt as soon as the words left his mouth. Kageyama’s eyes had gone wide, his whole body going rigid, his fist clenching at his sides. He could see the amount of effort it took Kageyama to school his face back into a neutral expression, but he still couldn’t hide the cold anger that ghosted over his blue eyes.

“Oikawa san”. Kageyama’s voice was cold. “Was it really necessary to bring that name up?”

Oh. So, _this was_ about Kiyoomi. Oikawa knew he shouldn’t take it personally and he also knew it was his fault for opening old wounds, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming flare of anger that immediately lighted up inside him. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Sakusa is still alive.” Oikawa snapped.

Kageyama looked at him for a few seconds, blue eyes boring into his brown ones.

“Not for long” Kageyama vowed. He turned on his heel and walked out.

Oikawa gritted his teeth, watching him walk away. _Well, that went splendidly Mr. team lead_ he thought, furious with himself. He turned back to the target range, pulled the trigger of the semi-automatic in his hand and watched the bullets repeatedly hit the target, ripping it into shreds.

* * *


	6. Shovel and Spade...

Kenma could feel the adrenaline slowly draining out of his system as he entered the Nekoma locker room, the aches and pains coming back with a ferocious intensity. He winced, rubbing his forearm; Seijoh had packed quite a punch and he couldn’t decide which player was tougher to beat, Iwaizumi or Kunimi. His head hurt trying to think about it and in the end, he decided that Nekoma was lucky to have managed to survive that slugfest. He sighed, painfully walking over to the wash basin and gingerly pulling out his mouthguard, spitted out a bloody gob of saliva. He looked at the mirror; his bruised and bloody face stared right back at him. All worth it, he nodded to himself, a small hint of a smile appearing on his face. He knew it was going to hurt bad in the morning but for now, he allowed the sense of accomplishment to wash over him at having won their match against Seijoh.

His eyes flickered over to Lev, who was lying flat on his back on the floor. Kenma could see he was still trying to catch his breath, but his face had a ridiculous grin on it and the more Kenma looked at him, the more he could feel his mouth twitching to mirror that absurd grin on his face. Lev eyed him for a few seconds, a tiny snort of amusement escaping his lips. He groaned in pain immediately. Kenma chuckled and stopped just as fast, sudden pain flaring over his sides. They looked at each other warily; it started with a breathy chortle from Kenma, followed by a giggle from Lev and suddenly they were both overcome with the insane desire to laugh; it slowly bubbled out of their mouths and before they knew it, they were laughing like two possessed madman. Both were wheezing, clutching their stomach, tears streaming down their face, unable to stop the helpless laughter pouring out of them. 

“That went well” Lev gasped, in between howls of laughter, trying desperately to catch his breath, before being overcome with another bout of uncontrollable hysterical giggling. Kenma guffawed.

After what seemed like hours to Kenma, they were finally able to calm down, still chuckling now and then as Kenma slowly made his way over to sit on the bench near his locker and Lev finally getting up from the floor, gingerly stretched his back, a stupid smile still plastered on his face.

“I am going to go soak in an ice bath.” Lev groaned. “I think I might have pulled a muscle from laughing.”

“I am sure Iwaizumi would be disappointed to hear that.” Kenma snickered, watching Lev gingerly pull off his sweaty shirt and throw it inside the dirty laundry basket. He walked over to the showers, but not before flipping Kenma off.

Kenma was still smirking as he reached out to pull his bag over to where he was sitting and took out his cell phone. He tapped on the phone screen to check for Hinata’s message and immediately he could feel the smile sliding off his face. The screen was empty and just the wallpaper of Him, Natsu and Hinata wearing funny hats stared back at him. Kenma frowned, suddenly feeling uneasy. Hinata had never once missed out on sending him a message after his matches got over. Usually his messages were a stream of emoticons and hyperactive gifs followed by a dozen exclamation marks and hardly any words. But it didn’t really matter. It was almost like a routine for them, a habit so ingrained in their day to day life that suddenly not seeing a message from Hinata, especially after Nekoma had made it all the way to the finals, sent alarm bells ringing in his head. He stared at the screen, slow panic rising in his throat. Did something happen to Hinata? What about Natsu. Was she ok?

He tried to breath in slowly, telling himself he was being paranoid and most likely Hinata got so busy with something that he forgot to contact him. He frowned, his grip on the phone tightening. Not for the first time Kenma found himself wishing he could just reach out to him directly instead, but he knew from personal experience how dangerous that would be. Instead he unlocked his phone and dialed Natsu’s number. Natsu picked up after four rings.

“Kenma Nii San!” Natsu exclaimed. “I was just about -”

“Did Shouyou call you today?” Kenma cut her off.

He could hear Natsu pause, a tiny flicker of fear clouding her voice. “No,” she replied slowly, “Onisan hasn't contacted me yet. I just got back into the country late last night, so I wasn’t expecting a call from him anyway.”

Kenma digested the information, his sense of dread growing stronger by the second.

“Did something happen?” Natsu asked, her voice suddenly strained.

“I don’t know”, Kenma admitted. “I am going to try and find out. Till I call you back, can you please stay back at work and not head outside?”

He could almost see Natsu nod before she spoke up. “Yes, I can do that. My boss is working late so it wouldn’t cause any suspicion if I stay back too.”

Kenma let out a small sigh of relief; if there was any place Natsu could be safe right now, it would be at the Johzenji office buildings.

“Promise me you will call me back!”

“I promise.” Kenma hesitated. “I am sure it’s nothing. He might be out there stuffing his mouth with dango and completely forgot about messaging me.” They both knew it was a lie but Natsu didn’t say anything to correct him.

After getting Natsu’s word to stay back and contact him as soon as she heard from her brother, Kenma hung up, a slow headache building up behind his temples. In the background he could hear snatches of Lev’s off-key singing, but his mind was slowly going blank with trepidation.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

* * *

Tsukishima had never been a fan of the Tsubakihara penitentiary and if given a choice, he would be nowhere close to where he was right now, preferably miles away if possible. The towering walls of the maximum-security prison and the tall looming iron gates in front of him were hardly welcoming to say the least and he stood there for a full minute, suppressing a shudder that went through his body at the thought of setting foot inside that monstrosity. He shifted on his feet, and his fingers ghosted over the grip of the gun strapped on to his waist, reassuring himself that it was there. The night was hot and uncomfortable, and even though the sun had set hours ago and the stars had long since come out to play, his throat still burned with the air that he breathed in and his glasses keep sliding down the bridge of his sweaty nose.

There was hardly any sound when the iron gates swung open in front of him, and if there was, Tsukishima didn’t hear it; it was most probably swallowed up by the sudden gust of wind that blew dust and fallen leaves around him. The prison guard motioned him inside and with a resigned sigh, he walked forward.

Tsukishima had lost count of the number of sleepless hours he had spent trying to find the missing connection to the whole fiasco, that one broken link that might shed some light on who set up Oikawa Tooru to die that night. It was an irony not lost on him that the one spark of hope he finally found led him to Tsubakihara. It came to him when he was digging up information on Nishinoya Yuu, the man that Oikawa had asked him to investigate a few days ago. The number of casefiles related to that man had been suspiciously nonexistent and he had ended up looking into his associates and any other seemingly random interactions he has had with anyone over the span of a decade.

Buried in that mountain of information was the case file of one Shishio Aritaka, a person currently serving a 15-year sentence in Tsubakihara for embezzlement and money laundering. What caught Tsukishima’s eye were two facts: first, a white-collar criminal was sent to one of the most dangerous maximum-security prisons in the country, a punishment that didn’t benefit the crime. And second –

“We are here.” 

The gruff voice of the prison guard snapped Tsukishima from his thoughts, and he looked around to find himself in a tiny room with a table and two chairs on it. The bright lights on the ceiling clearly illuminated the face of the person sitting on one of the chairs, his hands and legs cuffed to the legs of the chair. The man eyed him warily as Tsukishima cleared his throat and walked over to sit on the other chair, facing him with the table in between them.

“Fifteen minutes”, the guard said. Tsukishima nodded and the guard walked out the door, closing it behind him.

Tsukishima silently pulled his gun out of the holster and placed it on the table in between them. The shackled man raised his eyebrow at him; staring silently, not moving a muscle. Tsukishima decided it was time to change that. 

“Akaashi Keiji” As soon as the name left Tsukishima’s mouth, he could see the other man cringe, the colour draining from his face.

“One of the most notorious criminals,” Tsukishima continued, resting his back on the chair, his arms folded in front of him. “His empire spread all over the world and not a single person has been able to touch him. His name is on the most wanted list as well as on the hit list of every organization in the world, criminal or otherwise.” He paused, looking at the man.

“Yet you…” Tsukishima stood up, walking over “Shishio Aritaka, you dared embezzle money from him. Not only dared but…” he bent down so that he was leaning over his shoulder, behind the chair and he whispered in his ear “Somehow, you are still alive.”

Aritaka shuddered as Tsukishima moved away to lean against the wall. He watched him carefully as minutes ticked by, waiting for Aritaka to break the tense silence that had fallen in the room, his eyes fixed on the man in the chair.

“He allowed it.”

Aritaka had spoken so softly that if Tsukishima hadn’t seen the man’s lips move, he wouldn’t have caught it.

“He knew exactly what I was doing.” Aritaka croaked. “And he allowed it to happen. Why do you think I am in a maximum-security prison?”

Tsukishima’s eye slowly widened as comprehension dawned on him.

“That’s his way of catching the rats”, Aritaka continued in a low voice. “He lets them do what they want. He lets them think they are getting away with it. But he knows everything. He just watches and waits; it's amusing for him to watch when the rats run out of options and when they stop being useful to him.”

“You had a plea bargain.” Tsukishima noted, walking back to sit on his chair. “It was quite an unusual request. You wanted to be incarcerated in Tsubakihara.”

“Yes,” the man nodded.

“It was to keep yourself safe.” Tsukishima added, speaking his thoughts out loud. “To make it difficult for Akaashi to get to you.”

Aritaka stared at him. “I am not that big of a fish for Akaashi to bother. I was just tossed out to the wolves. If he wanted me dead, I would have been long buried by now. Tsubakihara was just something for my peace of mind.”

Some pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place at Aritaka’s words and Tsukishima felt like he had some answers, but somehow, they still seemed to seep through his fingers, like grains of sand.

“Akaashi knows everything.” Aritaka repeated, looking him in the eye. “Everything.”

He looked back at the hopeless brown eyes of the prisoner and that’s exactly when it clicked in his head.

_Damn_ , he thought suddenly, anxiety flaring up from the pit of his stomach. _I must get hold of Kageyama_.

* * *

Tendou’s long fingers clacked over the keyboards as he kept his eyes focused on the screen and pretended not to notice Kageyama storming out from the shooting range. He concealed a small smile. _Seems like that went well_ he chuckled. For a moment, he entertained the idea of maybe trying to mess around a bit with Kageyama’s head but then from the ominous aura that Kageyama was emitting, Tendou decided now was not the time. He had always wondered how these two got along so well; the boisterous nature of Oikawa hardly complimented the stoic and straightforward ways of Kageyama but somehow, they still made it work.

Well, Tendou mused, with so much history between them, it was hardly surprising. Pain had a way of bringing people together and no amount of mental fortitude could stand up to that.

Tendou kept his eyes on the screen, working on the keyboard, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked over the financial statements and bank documents that he was finally able to hack through. However, he kept getting distracted by the tiny encrypted message that had popped up on the screen a few minutes ago. He was intrigued but also alarmed at the same time: it was the first time, as far as he was aware of, that someone had tried using this channel to contact Oikawa. He had initially decided to ignore it since he knew it was for Oikawa, one of his many chosen code names very clearly stated on it. However, his fingers faltered and not for the first time, he stopped typing and looked at the tantalizing image of the unopened message at the corner of the screen, his forehead furrowed in a thoughtful expression.

Ok, this was important, he decided; especially since they weren’t expecting to hear anything for a week at least. Something must have changed drastically for the person to try and contact them. Tendou needed to bring this to Oikawa’s attention immediately. And now that Kageyama had stormed out, he was going to give Oikawa 5 minutes to calm down before he got up and approached him. Tendou was not stupid; he wouldn’t go 100 feet near Oikawa when he had a gun in his hand and Kageyama on his mind. Tendou valued his life much more than that, thank you very much.

He eyed the tiny flickering message box once again, a little hesitant. Alright, 2 minutes then. Then he would go down. He sighed, resuming his typing. Sometimes he wondered whether it would have been better to have declined Ushijima’s offer and try to go back to be a field surgeon; he would take the demons inside his head any day. Well, almost.

The muffled sounds of shots being fired drifted in through the open door that Kageyama had just walked out of. He made a mental note that it would probably not be a bad idea to put on a Kevlar vest before talking to Oikawa. He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips and the sound of the keyboards clacking filled up the room once again. 

The name _Grand King_ continued to glow on the tiny message box at the bottom of the screen.

* * *


	7. Quest...

* * *

Kuroo tentatively adjusted the earpiece, his eyes still fixed on his target. The man he had been tailing had slowed down to pull a cell phone out of his pocket and Kuroo had reduced his pace to keep at least 20 feet of distance between them. He had been following the man for more than 10 minutes now since he had left the arena, sharply aware that they had moved on to the main streets, with hundreds of shops and restaurants lined up on both sides. Kuroo frowned slightly; he hadn’t expected to be led to such an open public place. Did the man notice already that he was being followed?

Kuroo knew that the throng of people around him provided him with the perfect cover, to mingle in as just another face in the crowd and for a few seconds he contemplated if it would be wise to try and move in closer so he could eavesdrop on his conversation. However, he decided it was not worth the risk, that it would be too reckless and really, there was no point in doing anything of that sort. Even as the thoughts ran through his head, he saw the man slowly turn around, his phone still pressed to his ear. Kuroo faltered and stopped suddenly; he knew there was a low possibility that the man would be able to spot him in the crowd, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He immediately turned his head and walked over to the side, to look at the display of a store, pretending to be interested in the mannequin that was dressed up with what he guessed was the latest fashion, behind the huge glass wall.

“What is he doing?” Sawamura’s voice floated in through the tiny earpiece tucked in his left ear. Kuroo could see from the corner of his eye that the man had now started walking back towards him, the phone still in his hand, his eyes darting around as if he was looking for something. Or someone. Best case scenario: the man was looking for someone else and, in that case, Kuroo might be able to get two birds with one stone. Worst case scenario: he had spotted Kuroo. In that case, he would have to try and somehow get out of there. He sighed, considering his options. To any passerby, if they happened to glance over at him, it would look like the black-haired man was really interested in the neon green jacket that the mannequin was wearing and would most likely disregard him as just another window shopper. No one would really notice the slight tightening of the jaw, the small shadow that had passed over his eyes - no one would really notice how the air around him felt as if the temperature had suddenly dropped 10 degrees.

Kuroo didn’t move and he could hear Sawamura curse in his ear.

“Relax” Kuroo whispered, eyes still fixed on the display.

A few tense seconds passed with Kuroo still feigning interest at the display but really, he was trying to see what the man was doing. He casually glanced over, and he could see the man had stopped in front of a building and was looking up to read the sign board. The building looked like a family restaurant, already busy for the evening, and bustling with customers. The huge sign board saying “Sakanoshita Restaurant” had a picture of barbeque and pulled pork and meat buns on it, clearly a local favorite if the crowd at the place was anything to go by.

“Looks like he didn’t notice you after all.” Sawamura’s voice spoke up in his ear. Kuroo nodded his head slightly, a motion so discreet that no one would even notice if they had looked at him. The man seemed to have made up his mind and Kuroo saw him quickly say something on his phone before hanging up, pulling the door of the building open and disappearing inside.

“Shit!” Kuroo exclaimed, suddenly alarmed. He dashed towards Sakanoshita, his long legs immediately covering the distance within seconds.

“Daichi! The back alley!” he yelled as he reached out and wrenched open the door of the restaurant.

“On it!” 

The restaurant was so full of people, Kuroo had to squeeze his way in, muttering apologizes as he jostled his way inside. One advantage of being over 6’ 2” was the fact that he could most of the time look over the crowd of people surrounding him and that’s how he immediately noticed that the man he had been tailing, had just ducked inside the kitchen. He straight away realized how easy it would be for the man to just take off his jacked and put on an apron and chef hat to blend in with the rest of the kitchen staff. Kuroo cursed, pushing his way in, ignoring the shouts from some of the patrons whom he had to unceremoniously push aside, out of the way.

“Daichi!” Kuroo said urgently, “I think he’s trying to get out the back door, heading towards the alley.”

“I am almost there!” Kuroo could tell that Sawamura was running, his breaths coming in short gasps over the earpiece. He just hoped it was not too late.

By the time Kuroo had made his way into the kitchen area, the man was nowhere to be seen. He looked around and one quick glance was enough to tell him the man was not there; none of the kitchen staff was tall enough or broad enough to be the target; and that left the back door exit as the only possible explanation of an escape route.

He knew he had to be cautious; it could all be a trap but really at this point, there was only one thing he could do and no time to waste. As his hand wrapped around the door handle, his instincts suddenly flared, telling him something was definitely not right. Before he could react, the exit door to the back alley was suddenly yanked open, and Kuroo lurched forward, somehow managing to regain his balance at the last second. The next second, he could hear a gun cocking back and could almost feel the cold barrel of a gun aimed onto the back of his head.

Kuroo didn’t know how he knew it, but he immediately realized that surrendering or raising his hands would not do him any good. He could almost smell the blood lust from the person holding the gun and he made his decision in one split second; he instantly dropped down, his right feet connecting with a solid sweeping low kick to the assailant’s ankle. Kuroo knew he caught the man by surprise due to the startled grunt that escaped his mouth and how he staggered at the blow, momentarily losing his balance. That was enough time for Kuroo to get back onto his feet and his right hook next caught the attacker to the side of his head, just before the gun went off, the bullet sinking into the trash receptacle behind him. Kuroo expected his ear drums to shatter but the silencer held, a low ringing sound filling his head instead, mixing in with the pounding of his heart in his throat.

One thing he didn’t expect however, was for the assailant to recover so quickly and as such he was not anticipating the blow that came next, which almost knocked him out for a brief second, when the grip of the gun smashed into his jaw, snapping his head back painfully. The punch to his gut that followed next almost took the air out of his lungs; almost. Kuroo was in enough control to grip both the wrist of the gunman with his hands and pulling the man towards him, he rammed his head into his nose. The man’s grip on the gun went slack momentarily and Kuroo violently snatched it away and pushed the barrel of the gun roughly against the man’s temple.

The assailant went stiff, blood dripping down his face, wheezing painfully.

“Kuroo!” Sawamura’s shout caught his ears and something about the panic in Sawamura’s voice made him look up. Before he could comprehend what was happening, Sawamura had tackled him to the ground, knocking them both to the side and they fell in a heap behind a row of huge dumpsters that had lined up the alley. There was a screeching sound of a van, the smell of burnt rubber tires in the air and suddenly a hail of bullets rained down around them, some of the bullets hitting the side of the dumpster, boring inside the trash, some plunking off harmlessly while a few others came dangerously close to them as Sawamura pulled them further inside, using the huge receptors as a shield between them.

It lasted only for a few seconds but by the time the bullets had stopped, Kuroo found himself looking up at the night sky on his back, sinking on some of the garbage bags, the stink almost choking him, his heart thundering in his ears. He could see Sawamura slowly sit up, removing a banana peel from his hair and through the stink of the garbage and the sounds of his labored breathing , he could hear the van screeching away in the distance, the man they were chasing long gone along with it.

* * *

Yamaguchi sat in his office, three copies of the same report on his desk. He had been going over them for what seemed like hours now and somehow, he still couldn’t make any progress on it. His eyes glazed over the words and he finally realized he had just read the same paragraph over more than three times. He sighed, putting away the file. His mind was too preoccupied, and he just couldn’t concentrate.

Getting up from his desk, he walked over to the giant glass windows and looked out to the port, his thoughts going back to the events of two nights ago. Something was bothering him, something about the way Natsu had reacted to his questions, something about the way her eyes had shifted around and how her voice had sounded so strained; but try as hard as he could, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Natsu had looked pale and jittery and initially Yamaguchi had thought it might be related to jet lag. However, it became obvious that something was not right, the way she kept glancing at her phone was just one dead giveaway among many. She had told him she was going to work late that night, since she had a lot of paperwork to catch up on; it sounded like a logical explanation to Yamaguchi at first and he had just nodded his head without looking up. He didn’t realize however, that ‘late’ would be 2 am late. He was surprised to find her still sitting at her desk when he had finally walked out of his office.

Natsu had offered some explanation about waiting for her brother to pick her up. Yamaguchi couldn’t help but be concerned at the tone of her voice and even offered her a ride home, which she had politely declined.

_“He is on his way; should be here in another 15 minutes.”_

_“Isn’t your brother participating in the Battle of the Garbage Dump?”_

_“Yeah… they made it to the finals today and will be playing Karasuno for the championship.”_

Yamaguchi had insisted on waiting along with her and sure enough, her brother showed up in about 20 mins. Natsu had told him they were not related by blood and he could see that very clearly; the blonde athlete was still wearing his red Nekoma jersey when he had walked into the lobby and had introduced himself as Kozume Kenma.

That was two nights ago and Natsu had called the next day saying she was sick and would be taking the next two days off to rest.

Yamaguchi took in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. The sun was almost right overhead, in the middle of the sky and in the distance, he could see cargo being unloaded from one of the many giant cargo ships. Something must have happened, he was sure of it, but he realized didn’t really have time to dwell on it as the tiny notification alert going off on his phone reminded him that he had other things to worry about. Other things that went by the name of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

He sighed, walking back to his desk to pick up his car keys. Ushijima had been vague on their last communication and all Yamaguchi knew was that Ushijima wanted him to have a security detail for his attendance at the World Economic Forum conference as Johzenji’s CEO. Although Yamaguchi told him that he normally didn’t go around with any security or body guards and how it might stand out even more if he showed up with a whole entourage in tow, Ushijima had insisted that it would just be one man and he wanted his agent inside the building as part of the current case they had been working on. Johzenji attending the Forum and him being one of the main keynote speakers gave Ushijima the perfect opportunity to do so. _This is for National Security. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise._

Well, how do you say no to that? Especially since he was already co-operating with the agency in their current investigation. He walked out of his office and headed down the building, preferring to take the stairs since the elevators would be crowded with people moving in and out during the lunch hour. He was supposed to meet this agent today and Ushijima had already sent him pictures so he was sure he would be able to recognize him; that was not the problem here. The problem was the fact that he was still not comfortable doing this and even thought it sounded like a simple enough request, it still gave him a niggling feeling of foreboding. Maybe it was because of witnessing Natsu’s anxiety that night or just the fact that he didn’t like to get into anything without knowing in detail the risks that it entails; something about this just didn’t feel right.

However, there was no backing out now and that’s how he found himself standing outside an upscale café, in one of the most expensive places in the city, in the middle of the day, wondering yet again if knowing Ushijima had been a curse or a blessing.

He exhaled slowly and stepping forward, pushed open the door to the café.

* * *

Kageyama sat quietly at the corner booth, his fingers loosely wrapped around a cup of coffee. The dark circles around his eyes hardly did anything to distract from the fading yellow bruises on his face but the waitress still gave him an uncomfortable look as she walked past. It wasn’t like Kageyama cared what others thought about him but at that moment, he was trying not to stand out too much and he wondered belatedly if he should have picked a less crowded place instead. That urgent phone call from Tsukishima a couple of night ago didn’t help with his sleep problems either and now he was hoping his frazzled mind can keep up with him long enough to get through this. Plus, Oikawa bringing up Sakusa like that… he grimaced at the memory, the bitter taste of the strong coffee burning his throat as he took another sip, noticing vaguely how his hand slightly shook when he brought the cup down.

The sound of the café door opening made him look up and he glanced briefly over the huge clock hanging above the entrance door. 12:30 pm. His eyes went back to observe the man in the suit that had just walked into the café and who stood there awkwardly for a bit, discreetly trying to look around the café as he slowly made his way in. Kageyama knew the exact moment the man saw him by the slight look of recognition that came over his face when he noticed him sitting there. Kageyama acknowledged him by raising his coffee cup slightly and the man gave him a quick nod, walking over to where he sat.

Kageyama watched him silently, absentmindedly stirring the rapidly cooling coffee in his cup with a wooden coffee stirrer. Yamaguchi Tadashi was the youngest person to be the CEO of Johzenji in the past 20 years; a brilliant entrepreneur and a no-nonsense man, he was pretty well known for his innovative ideas and how he had managed to secure Johzenji’s position among the top Fortune 500 companies. Kageyama had occasionally caught glimpses of his face on the news and his name was synonymous with success in the business world. He, however, didn’t have a reason to know more about the CEO until he saw his name pop up in the list of attendees that Tsukishima had pulled up for the World Economic Forum.

Nishinoya Yuu was going to be in that conference and there was no way the agency would let such an opportunity go to waste. They had been chasing ghosts all over the world, trying to pin down Akaashi Keiji and for years all their efforts had gone up in smoke; and suddenly there they were, with a rare chance of getting up close and personal with one of Akaashi’s main confidant and lieutenant and if that meant they had to get Yamaguchi Tadashi involved in it, it was a risk they would unfortunately have to take. It made him feel uneasy and he could feel a slow headache building up behind his temples.

Yamaguchi approached the booth he was sitting at and slid into the seat in front of him. Now that he was closer, Kageyama could see the signs of sleep deprivation on his face, the slightly puffy red eyes for one and the haggard look on his face for the other. He gave him a few seconds to settle in before pulling out a slightly crumpled file folder and placing it on the table between them. Yamaguchi looked at the folder and quirked his eyebrow.

“A little too public a place for this, don’t you think?”

Kageyama didn’t say anything and Yamaguchi reached out to take the folder and open it, a slight frown appearing on his face as he flipped through the pages slowly, his eyes narrowing. He took another sip of his coffee and watched the imperceptible changes in the facial expressions of the young business tycoon in front of him.

“This really doesn’t tell me much.” He began, putting the file back on the table. “And actually, I prefer it that way.”

Kageyama nodded his head, taking the file back from the table. He didn’t want to get Yamaguchi involved any more than he already was, but he didn’t want to let the man go in blind either. The key was to provide him with just enough information; any more than that would be dangerous for everyone involved. 

“We will get everything ready, including entry passes and id badges.” Yamaguchi continued. “You will have to show up at the Johzenji building at least an hour in advance.” 

As Kageyama listened to Yamaguchi talk, he could see why this man oversaw such a large corporation at such a young age. The authority in his voice felt natural and although he was meeting him for the first time, he could already feel that this man was used to being in a position of power and he also knew very well how to wield that power.

“You don’t speak much, do you?”

Kageyama looked back to find Yamaguchi observing him, a slight smile on his face.

“I just need to get inside the building.” Kageyama replied, raising his hand to signal to one of the waitresses for a refill. “Once inside, I will stay close to you of course.”

“Of course,” Yamaguchi nodded and Kageyama could detect a slight tone of apprehension creeping in his voice. He knew that even though Yamaguchi appeared calm and composed on the surface, he was not exactly thrilled with this whole business of trying to get a spy inside the building. And why would he be? It’s not like he woke up everyday chasing dangerous terrorists and criminals for a living; that was Kageyama’s job, not Yamaguchi’s.

He paused as the waitress walked over to their booth and filled up his coffee cup to the brim.

“Should I be worried?” Yamaguchi resumed as soon as the waitress left their table.

“You won’t be in any danger”, Kageyama offered, taking a sip of the hot coffee, the strong burst of caffeine momentarily distracting him from his headache for a few seconds. “And we wouldn’t ask you if we thought it would put you at any risk.” Even as the words escaped his mouth, he knew how hollow they sounded. If there was one thing he had learnt over the past decade of hunting down criminals and being hunted down by criminals in return, it was that there was never any guarantee of things working out according to plan and more often than not, fate had a tendency of blowing up his plans on his face. 

“Look”, Kageyama sighed, “I know nothing I can say will reassure you completely but trust me on this; I won’t get you involved in anything that might put you in any sort of risk.”

“It’s a little too late for that.” Yamaguchi groaned, rubbing his forehead. “But ok, I guess have no other option but to take your word for it.”

Kageyama nodded. That will have to do for now.

* * *


	8. Domino effect...

* * *

* * *

Tsukishima paced up and down the room, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall every few seconds. Ever since he got back from Tsubakihara, his brain had been working on overdrive, trying to gather the pieces of the puzzle; he could almost see the full picture and he knew he was close… so close. That conversation with Aritaka a couple of days back started this thought process and he wasn’t sure if that is the right direction or not but somehow it just kind of made sense to him. He had called Kageyama immediately but had hesitated to elaborate more on it, instead telling him he might have a lead and would get back to him soon with more details.

The problem was, he didn’t have anything more to go with. No details, no proof… just an innate feeling that he was correct, it just felt right. He had spent the past two days going through every piece of information he could find, going through documents after documents, case after case but he was still not sure what he was looking for. At the back of his mind, he just knew something would click as soon as he saw it. Saw what exactly? Tsukishima sighed, stopping in the middle of the room and not for the first time he found himself wondering since when did he start trusting his _feelings_ to make decisions, trying to validate something not based on facts? This case was seriously getting to him.

He looked up at the clock again, his brows furrowed in deep thought. Dare he make the call? At the very least, he could warn them so that they would not let their guard down. What if he was wrong? He shook his head, resuming his pacing. He was not wrong. He knew it, he just knew it.

Aritaka’s voice kept echoing in his head, the words running around his subconscious repeatedly; he could almost taste the faint smell of disinfectant that had surrounded him in that interrogation room in Tsubakihara.

_“Akaashi knows everything. Everything.”_

Yes, Tsukishima agreed. Akaashi had to know everything.

He paused, gathering his thoughts and finally decided that he had to go with his gut instincts on this one. He knew Kageyama’s routine by heart and since both Oikawa and Kageyama were told to keep their heads down and maintain a low profile, he knew Kageyama would be in the safehouse right now, this late in the night. Glancing over once again at the clock, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text. Now he had to wait.

He took his glasses off and tried to rub the tiredness out of his eyes; maybe talking this out with someone will help him make some sense out of it.

He didn’t have to wait long as Kageyama’s incoming call lit up the bottom of one of the many computer screens that littered his workspace in the agency. Tsukishima took in a deep breath, steadied himself and accepting the call, he redirected the image on to the projection screen on the wall in front of him.

Kageyama’s face came into focus and Tsukishima vaguely noticed that he looked almost back to normal.

“It’s Hinata Shouyo” Tsukishima said before Kageyama could even open his mouth to say anything.

Kageyama visibly stiffened.

“Are you sure?”

“No, I am not”, Tsukishima admitted and started pacing the room once again. He could feel Kageyama’s eyes following him from the screen, silently waiting for him to provide an explanation.

“I am not sure.” Tsukishima repeated, coming to a stop in front of the screen. He looked at Kageyama’s face, but he couldn’t detect anything on the blank façade that he had come to know so well; no change in expression, nothing to let Tsukishima know what he was thinking.

“I don’t think he is doing it knowingly.” Tsukishima exhaled, running his fingers through his blond hair, frustrated.

“He is being set up?”

Tsukishima nodded.

“That is the only explanation that makes sense, King.”

“He is being provided false information” Kageyama said quietly, “because they know.”

“Yes”, Tsukishima agreed. “Akaashi knows everything.”

When Kageyama didn’t say anything, Tsukishima continued.

“I don’t have any proof. Not even a single word to support my hypothesis.”

“But it makes sense” Kageyama agreed, putting his elbows on his desk and leaning forward towards the screen, his fingers lacing together as they came to a rest in front of his chin.

“We need a plan” Tsukishima began resuming his pacing. “How do we handle this?”

“Why is Akaashi letting him do this? If he knows, why not just take him out?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Akaashi didn’t really care? Maybe whatever Hinata was doing, it wasn’t substantial enough to do any damage?”

“Maybe Hinata’s life is already in danger.” Kageyama supplied.

“He knew exactly what he was getting himself into, King” Tsukishima waved him off. “It would be foolish to assume otherwise.”

Kageyama went quiet and for a few minutes, Tsukishima’s impatient footsteps were the only sounds in the room.

“Can you pull out his file again?” Kageyama suddenly asked.

Tsukishima nodded and quickly walked over to the desk. The big screen in front of them blinked to life and a picture of Hinata hovered to the right, with lines and lines of information below it. Tsukishima squinted at the picture, a small frown forming at the corners of his mouth; no matter how many times Tsukishima had seen it, he still couldn’t get over how brightly orange that hair was.

“Oikawa san calls him Tangerine” Kageyama deadpanned, as if reading Tsukishima’s mind.

Tsukishima stared at him, incredulous. Kageyama shrugged.

Tsukishima shook his head, looking back at the file displayed on the projection screen.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, moving closer to the screen, looking up at the picture of Hinata again.

“Oikawa san received a message a couple of days back, addressed to him as the Grand King” Kageyama began. “He didn’t mention who it was from and the only reason I know about it is because Tendou san told me about it.”

“You suspect it’s from Hinata.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Highly likely, yes.” Kageyama nodded. “What’s highly unlikely was the fact that the message came in through the emergency line, something which was to be used only in extreme case scenarios.”

Tsukishima frowned.

“What are you trying to get at, King?”

Tsukishima could almost see the cogs turning in Kageyama’s head and he stared at him, his stomach slowly filling with dread as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“It’s a trap”, he whispered, suddenly feeling sick.

“Yes.” Kageyama agreed, his voice sounding almost nonchalant. “It is a trap.”

“Are you sure?” Tsukishima heard himself say and even as the words escaped his mouth, he knew instinctively that Kageyama was correct. He stood rooted to the spot, too stunned to speak.

“No.” Kageyama admitted. “but if you think about it, they already used Hinata once to give us wrong information. What’s to make them stop now when it worked so perfectly last time?”

“If you hadn’t showed up – “ Tsukishima’s jaw tightened.

“Yeah.” Kageyama agreed darkly. “But this time, we can use it against them.”

Oh?

_Oh._

That might actually work.

He turned towards Kageyama, as his words started to sound more and more outrageous in his head. Tsukishima could almost see the way his eyes brightened just a little bit. There was a short silence and then -

“I can’t stop you when you get like this.” Tsukishima sighed. “So, tell me… what are you thinking?”

Kageyama smiled.

* * *

Hinata was not sure if this was a good idea.

And the very fact that he was _thinking_ that it was not a good idea, definitely meant it was not a good idea. He stood in the tiny gap between the two walls of the adjacent buildings, narrow enough to not be an alley but wide enough for him to squeeze through, his back pressed against the wall so tightly that he could feel the bricks poking sharply onto his back and shoulders. He barely moved out of the shadows, hidden in the small gap but his eyes were bright as he slowly tried to scan around the crowd of people walking by, instinctively searching out the places that would provide a good cover for an ambush.

He smoothed his palms against the sides of his jeans, trying to stop the way his hands still trembled slightly. He knew the Fukurodani mercenaries were not to be taken lightly and the fact that they were attempting to put a bullet through his brain a couple of days ago meant that the jig was up.

Akaashi knew.

He hated the shiver of fear that ran down his spine at that thought.

He hadn’t gone back to his place ever since he was attacked by Fukurodani; instead he had gone underground, moving from one hideout to the next, the ones that Kenma and him had used so many years ago. Most of them had gone into ruin and with the passage of time, hardly anyone remembered where they were, and no one really used them anymore. Hinata had determined that would be the perfect place to lie low for the time being, till he figured out what to do next.

The fear however, had rendered his brain unable to formulate any plan and he had ultimately ended up sending a message to Kenma, telling him to take Natsu with him and maintain a low profile for the time being. He had used one of the old communication channels that they had established to get the message across to Kenma and he could only hope he managed to get Natsu to go with him.

Hinata looked around carefully now, trying to keep as much to the shadows as possible. He had been there for quite some time and the day had already turned into night by the time he decided to make his move. He took in a deep breath, pulled his hood really low over his orange hair and then hesitated for a few seconds; he didn’t see anyone keeping an eye on his apartment and he was almost sure he would have noticed by now if that wasn’t the case.

He took a step forward and the building in front of him exploded, suddenly turning night into day for a few seconds. The shock waves threw Hinata off his feet, flinging him at least 20 feet away, debris flying out everywhere, a plume of smoke blasting up into the night sky. The ground shook with the force of the explosion and for a few seconds, Hinata couldn’t figure out where he was; his vision had blacked out and he could feel the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Coughing violently, he got on his hands and knees, faintly aware of warm blood running down his arms, seeping through his forehead, getting into his eyes. His ears were ringing so loud, he couldn’t hear anything, and when he instinctively tried to breathe in a lungful of air, he immediately choked on the ash and dust falling all over the place.

He tried to blink the blood out of his eyes, vaguely realizing that he was still alive and that could only mean that he just escaped the blast radius by a few feet. At the same time, his brain also registered that it was his apartment that was just blown to bits, right in front of him. He tried to shake his head to get rid of the ringing in his ears and instead gasped in agony, the throbbing in his head threatening to split his skull in two. 

Suddenly, through the haze, he could feel rough hands trying to pull him up on to his feet. He panicked, his dazed mind picking up on his heart thundering in his eardrums and even though he was completely disoriented, his body immediately tried to fight back.

“Let me go!” he slurred, struggling to escape, trying to land a hit on to the side of the person’s face; a weak attempt which was easily blocked.

“Shoyou! Calm down. It’s me!”

The voice sounded so familiar that for a moment he thought he was hallucinating; he peered into the face that was looking down at him, the blond hair almost gleaming yellow in the fire from the explosion.

“Kenma?” he stuttered, “what?”

“Later” Kenma said, the urgency in his voice almost drowning out the frantic beating of Hinata’s terrified heart.

He could feel Kenma’s strong arms heave him up to his feet and it was then that he realized that he must have landed really badly after being flung by the force of the blast, the sharp pain shooting up his right ankle a strong reminder as he tried to hobble along.

“Natsu…?” he managed to groan, gritting his teeth and trying to blink away the blood seeping into his eyes.

“She’s fine. I got her.”

Hinata almost sagged in relief and Kenma had to tighten his grip around his waist to hold him up.

“You are doing good” he could hear Kenma’s soothing voice in his ear, “you are doing good Shoyou. Let’s get you out of here.”

Hinata nodded dumbly, his breath coming in painful gasps and he tried to concentrate hard to try and keep putting one foot in front of the other. All around him he was faintly aware of people running and screaming, the blast seemed to have started a fire in the neighborhood and it was quickly spreading to the surrounding shops and buildings.

“How bad is it?” Hinata mumbled.

“You seem to have escaped by the skin of your teeth”, Kenma replied, directing him away from the blast site, the distant sirens of fire trucks and police vans melting slowly into the background as Kenma dragged him further and further away. “You have a lot of cuts and bruises and you seem to have twisted your ankle, but nothing looks too serious.”

“Concussion” Hinata breathed, hobbling along.

“Yeah”, Kenma gripped him tighter, dragging him closer to his side. “Definitely.”

“What were you –“

“Shoyou.” Kenma said gently. “I will answer all your question. But not now, ok? We must get out of here.”

Hinata could see Kenma had managed to drag him away a considerable distance from the blast site, to the lonely road along the pier, by the riverside. Slowly he could comprehend that the ringing in his ears had subsided enough for him to be able to hear the gentle waves of the water crashing onto the boats docked there; the sound almost surreal after that loud explosion. The cool breeze of air coming in from the waterside cleared his head slightly and he straightened up a bit, finally able to take in a deep breath without coughing. The blood seeping down his face also seemed to have finally subsided and he wearily ran his right sleeve over his face, trying to clear his vision.

The sound of a loud click of a gun cocking back, broke through the night and Hinata could feel Kenma suddenly tense up next to him. 

His body reacted even before his mind could grasp what was happening; he pushed Kenma away to the left and instinctively threw himself to the right just as a volley of bullets shattered the silence. He was still feeling a little dizzy and nauseous but years of experience trying not to get killed was coming in handy now, his survival mode kicking in and he flung himself over the dock and landed on one of the many fishing boats anchored there. He winced, staggering slightly. 

The bullets splintering the wooden deck of the boat near his feet propelled him to keep running, the pain in his ankle forgotten with the rush of adrenaline carousing through his body. A few bullets ricocheted off the metal railing off the boat, shattering glass everywhere, the sound burying the thundering of his heart for a few seconds. He scrambled over the bow and leaped on to the boat docked next to the one he was on, fighting off a wave of nausea, his body suddenly weightless in the air, a sudden dizziness almost botching the landing. He stumbled onto the deck, barely managing to steady himself before a bullet glanced through the side of his leg.

He hissed in pain, gritted his teeth and surged forward, blood seeping down his leg. At this point, he was not even sure if the blood was due to the injuries he sustained when he was hurled across the street or if it’s a new one. Just as the thought entered his head, a bullet slammed into his left arm, the force of the impact jerking his body off balance; he could feel his legs losing all their strength and he was suddenly toppling backward, a strong undeniable force pulling him down, towards the edge of the boat. 

The last thing he saw was the amazingly clear night sky with thousands of star shining down at him before Hinata’s body broke through the cold surface of the water and he plunged inside, the heavy darkness swallowing him whole.

* * *

If someone were to describe what sort of a person Oikawa Tooru was, it would be to apt to say that he was a man of few words. From the time he had first entered the agency as a fresh recruit, many years ago, to now, where he had steadily climbed the ranks to be the lead of the Special Divisions task force, answering only to Ushijima Wakatoshi and to the director, Oikawa had a way of getting things done with just a few words. Sometimes he didn’t even need words; just the quiet look of disapproval on his face or the extra ordinarily bright fake smile on his face were enough to send lesser mortals scurrying away from him in a hurry. He didn’t realize the effect it had on people and honestly, it wasn’t something that he was consciously aware of doing anyway; so, he couldn’t really be held accountable for it. However, he found out soon enough that what goes around comes back around and it came back to bite him in the form of Shimizu Kiyoko. If there was one person in the world who could leave him tongue tied with just a stare, it would be the director of the Bureau of Criminal Investigation. 

Sometimes Oikawa wondered how a woman half his size could generate such anxiety in him just by peering at him with that look in her eyes. That look that she was giving him right now.

Oikawa shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he could loosen the tie around his neck, which seemed to be tightening slowly with every second that passed where Shimizu was staring at him through the screen without saying a word. 

“So, let me get this straight” Shimizu started, looking at Oikawa without breaking eye contact, her voice filtering through the speakers into the small debriefing room. “You not only got a civilian involved, but you got _the_ Yamaguchi Tadashi of all people to go along with your plan?”

Oikawa opened his mouth to say something but before he could get any words out, Shimizu silenced him once again with that look on her face.

“I know he was pivotal in getting our spy inside Johzenji.” She continued. “However, my understanding was that his role was limited to just that. Nothing more.”

“His involvement is still minimal”, Oikawa replied, holding her gaze through the wide screen mounted on the wall in front of him. “He doesn’t know anything about the case, and we know his background is clean.”

Shimizu didn’t say anything, so Oikawa took it as his cue to continue.

“All he has to do is get our man inside the building. As his bodyguard. That’s all.”

“Who is going in with him?” Shimizu asked, sighing.

“Kageyama.”

Oikawa could see the tension ease a little with the way her shoulders relaxed a bit, something that he had come to look out for from the years of experience he has had working with her. She pushed her chair back, standing up and walking over closer to the video camera. Oikawa could see the dark curtains pulled across the windows behind her, the glow of the table lamps on the side reflecting off her glasses as she walked in closer to the screen.

“Tooru” Shimuzu had stopped in front of the camera, her arms folded across her chest. Oikawa could suddenly feel his mouth go dry. She never calls him “Tooru” unless … “You are playing a dangerous game here. Don’t make me regret this.”

Oikawa nodded. Shimizu gave him one last look before the screen went blank and he was left sitting alone in the room, staring at the afterimage of her face on the tv screen.

He knew Shimizu was not happy, he could tell. Honestly speaking, Oikawa realized that their plan was not ideal either and getting a civilian involved was not something he would have done under normal circumstances. But this was not normal circumstances; from the very beginning this case has been one big messed up game of hide and seek, a game of tag – and sometimes Oikawa had to remind himself that it was not as simple as the good guys chasing the bad guys, it was so much more complicated that it made his head hurt just thinking about it.

The events of the past few days didn’t do much to help brighten up his mood either. It had been more than 3 weeks since he was ambushed and though his physical injuries have healed significantly, he still couldn’t help feeling trapped inside his own mind while his body healed. Moreover, they were not making any progress at all! Kuroo and Sawamura had failed to get their target, he still hadn’t heard back from his other agent in months and Tendou and Tsukishima hadn’t had much luck with hacking into Nishinoya Yuu’s personal computer either.

Not to mention the coded message that he had received a couple of days back, addressed to him as the _Grand King._ And then there was their spy inside Johzenji…

He picked up the file in front of him and flipped it open to the picture of Nishinoya glaring at the camera, his finger tracing the outline of the picture absent mindedly. There had been at least three instances in the past decade where they had come this close to getting their hands on Akaashi but somehow or the other, that man had always managed to give them the slip. Oikawa was still suspicious of the real motive for Akaashi sending Nishinoya to the forum but since Itachiyama was in attendance, he was inclined to agree with Tsukishima that Akaashi was finally trying to make the move.

The door suddenly banged open and Oikawa looked up to see Tendou staring at him with bright eyes, his face twisting into what Oikawa could only assume was a smile, albeit it came across more like a grimace. He supposed it was as close to an imitation of a real smile that Tendou could make.

“We got it.” Tendou declared, a little breathless and let out a horrifying sound which sounded like a very strained attempt at laughter.

Oikawa raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Alright” he said, standing up and picking up the file from the table. “Gather the rest of the team. It’s time for a debriefing session.”

He paused and considered for a few seconds before looking at Tendou, who was still standing with his hand on the doorknob.

“And get Miya Atsumu.”

* * *


	9. House of cards...

* * *

Kenma saw Hinata toppling overboard and it was as if time had slowed down. He could vividly see the way his body had crumpled seconds before hitting the water and disappearing with hardly any sound. Kenma’s world in front of him vanished; all sights, sounds, smell, color… everything had faded in an instant and it was as if he himself had been submerged underwater, his soul drowning in horror. He was vaguely aware that he was moving, and it took him a few seconds to realize that the unholy noise in his head was the thundering of his own terrified heart. It didn’t register at all in his mind how and when he had covered the distance between him and the dockside; he didn’t know when or how he had taken a running leap but as the cold air hit his face, seconds before he hit the water himself, it all came back to him in a rush. The sudden cold sting of the water was like a slap to his face as he dove down. His eyes stung, water getting into his ears, his legs kicking, he tried to swim deeper into the water, looking around, frantic- It was too dark, too dark.

He couldn’t see a thing. His lungs were starting to burn, panic slowly constricting his chest with dread- there was no sign of Hinata. The dark murky waters dragged him in, fear smothering him – He pushed himself harder, ignoring the incessant need of his body to breathe; he was not even sure if the scorching fire shooting up his chest was due to the small amount of oxygen in his lungs burning out or due to pure blind terror. 

Suddenly, he bumped into something solid and reached out immediately, his hands extending out in the darkness and closing around something- an arm. Praying had never been Kenma’s strong suite but at that moment, submerged and suffocating slowly underwater, he found himself begging to any deity who would listen to him – just please let this be Hinata.

He held on and tugged the arm towards him with all his strength; he could feel he was on the verge of passing out himself, his lungs about to collapse and he knew he didn’t have much time- they didn’t have much time. Another vicious tug on the arm and Hinata’s limp body slowly floated over; even in the muddy waters around him, Kenma could recognize the outline of Hinata’s unconscious form. Such an overwhelming sense of relief rushed through him that for a second, he gasped, inhaling a lungful of water accidently. The water rushed in, flooding his airway, choking him, a sharp pain running down his nose, throat and chest; he struggled to regain control through the haze, pulling Hinata closer towards him.

Fighting to stay conscious, Kenma resolutely wrapped his arm around Hinata’s chest and kicked towards the surface. He was losing his strength steadily but his grip around Hinata never faltered; he held on, kicking harder- he could already see the water clearing above his head, just a few more feet, just a little bit more, almost there-

Kenma broke through the surface with a gasp, taking in an enormous gulp of air, his lungs greedily filling themselves in, the air searing and burning through his body. He coughed violently, swallowing and breathing in some more water in the process. He could feel the shallow wet heaving of Hinata’s chest in his arm and he turned towards Hinata frantically, just in time to see him hacking a weak cough and drawing in a rattling breath.

“I got you Shouyo – hold on, hold on…” Kenma muttered, a mixture of relief and helplessness flooding his chest.

“Kenma…” Hinata rasped weakly and even in the darkness of the night, Kenma could see that his eyes were unfocused and red. “I feel dizzy.”

“Ofcourse you do” Kenma had already started swimming towards the bank of the river, dragging Hinata along. He could feel Hinata trying to move his legs in a weak attempt to swim along but he was mostly dead weight, leaning on heavily for support. “You must be suffering from blood loss. I saw you get shot-“ Kenma choked on some more water as the memory flooded back in his mind.

“Why are they not shooting at us now?” Hinata gurgled, his head lolling off to the side, his words coming out strained, barely audible above the sound of the splashing water.

Kenma didn’t reply. To be honest, he wasn’t really thinking of anything when he had jumped in after Hinata but now that he knew Hinata was out of any immediate danger, his mind was slowly able to register their current predicament and as Hinata’s words rang through his head, he realized suddenly how reckless he was being right now. They were literally sitting ducks in the water, open targets for anyone, the cover of the night hardly enough to deter anyone from taking a shot. Pushing the sudden uneasiness to the back of his mind, he tightened his grip around Hinata and resolutely pushed forward, aiming for the bank further down the river, away from the dock and the boats anchored there.

Sharp voices floated over from someplace far, cutting through the still air of the night as Kenma’s feet finally touched solid ground.

“Why did you have to do that?”

“It was not like I had a choice!”

“Damn it!”

“You think he is dead?”

“How would I know? You saw him fall in the water, didn’t you?”

“Bokuto san is going to kill us!”

A short silence -

“Should we try to get his body out of the water?”

“It’s too late for that!”

“Wasn’t there another person with him?”

“Not our target so not important. The main thing is what do we do next?”

The voices continued to argue, and it got further and further away to the point that Kenma couldn’t hear them anymore. His heart was beating so loudly that for a moment, he was scared it would jump right out of his throat. A new form of panic was now taking over, filling him with dread. Stomach churning uncomfortably, he stumbled up the riverbank, heaving Hinata on to his feet and managing to take a few steps forward before collapsing on to the ground, Hinata toppling over along with him. He lay on his back, heaving from the strain, breath coming in small sharp painful gasps, staring up at the leaf covered canopy which was blocking the night sky. A sudden groan of pain from Hinata pulled Kenma back on his hands and knees and he crawled over to where Hinata lay crumpled on the ground, barely moving and he could see the blood seeping out of his left arm, soaking through his wet sleeve, mixing with the water and dripping on to the ground.

“Hold on please… you are going to be alright”. Kenma didn’t know who he was trying to reassure, faintly aware that he was hysterically ripping off the long sleeves of his water-soaked shirt into strips, dragging Hinata’s upper body onto his lap and reaching out for his injured arm. Hinata jerked weakly when Kenma wrapped the piece of fabric tightly around the seeping wound and he could hear himself mumbling incessant words of apologies and comfort, which were falling freely from his numb lips. Through the panic induced haze in his mind, he could hear Hinata faintly whisper. “Kenma- it’s ok”

Kenma shook his head mutely, trying to regain his composure. The dark stain seeping through his shirt sleeve tied across Hinata’s left arm left no room for doubt that Hinata was bleeding out slowly. He needed immediate medical attention, and he had to get him out of there as soon as possible.

He looked at Hinata’s prone form in his arms, barely conscious and he made up his mind immediately. There was no time to lose and he would think about the consequences later but right now, he knew exactly what to do next.

* * *

Yachi frowned, looking at the text message on her phone again.

_Congratulations once again on Nekoma making it to the finals. I know we got off on the wrong foot. I hope we can get over this stalemate and renew our negotiations again. Johzenji is only looking out for Nekoma’s best interest and we would like to discuss further details regarding our offer whenever you are available. Please do let us know and we can arrange a meeting sometime next week._

She had to give Miya credit for being persistent, she admitted grudgingly; that man definitely didn’t know when to give up. They had met at least six times in the past few weeks and every single time she had rejected Johzenji’s offer, which kept getting more and more elaborate as the meetings had progressed. The first time the request to have a face to face meeting had shown up at her table, she was intrigued for sure but also a bit cautious as to how to proceed next. She had had Aone investigate a little bit into what Johzenji was looking to get out of the deal and while she was at it, she also had him dig up whatever information he could find on Miya.

Based on what Aone could gather, Miya Atsumu had recently transferred over to the Johzenji branch in the city about five months back. Clean background, impressive resume and nothing out of the ordinary; just another corporate servant. That was her assumption as she had greeted him the first day at her office, but she could immediately feel that there was something more to him than what meets the eye. He was efficient, knowledgeable and straight forward, but for some niggling reason, she felt she was not talking to just a mere businessman but rather to someone else, someone dangerous. Just his mere presence was making the hair stand up at the back of her neck and for the rest of the hour, she had to force herself to keep calm and concentrate on his words. The smile that she had given him at the end was strained and she had hoped he couldn’t hear her heart beating in inexplicable fear as she shook his hand and showed him the way out after the meeting had gotten over, agreeing to meet again sometime soon. Over the years, Yachi had learnt to trust her gut feelings and she had lost count of the number of times her instincts had saved her life, just in the past few years itself. And right then and there, they were screaming at her to get away, to stay away and not get involved in any way with whatever Miya or Johzenji had to offer. She had walked back to her office in barely controlled panic, her palms sweating and her mind trying to make sense of what the heck was happening to make her feel so scared.

The next few meetings had just reinforced her initial impression, and no matter how pleasant and persuasive he was, she was always on edge and just couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was awry when it came to him. He was up to something, Yachi knew that and she just couldn’t figure out what it was that he really wanted out of this.

She sighed, throwing the phone away on her bed and stretching out on her back, her tired muscles finally relaxing after such a tense day at work. She had more important things to think about than Miya, she decided. The finals against Karasuno for one; it was coming up next week and she was starting to feel the jitters of nerves in her belly, something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. She had been confident in her team’s ability to win so far and though Seijoh, in general, and Iwaizumi in particular, did create some cause for concern, she never doubted that Nekoma would win.

Karasuno, however, was a completely different ball game. She had seen them play and had followed their matches religiously. She was under no illusion. This wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, Nekoma will have to fight tooth and nail if they had any chance of winning at all. And that meant she needed both Kenma and Lev to be at their best, especially after the beating they took in the semifinals. She winced inwardly, remembering the black eye, split lip and numerous colorful bruises that Lev had sported as he had walked out of the Nekoma locker rooms, mumbling something about Kenma running off somewhere and leaving him behind without a word.

The doorbell suddenly rang, the shrill sound echoing through the house.

Yachi sat up straight on her bed, her eyes going instinctively to the wall clock and her face twisting into a scowl immediately. She didn’t like unannounced visitors, especially this late at night. The doorbell rang again, and the echo had barely subsided, when it rang out loudly for the third time. She growled in annoyance, getting up on her feet and pulling on her dressing gown. This better be important.

By the time she had reached the front door, there were loud urgent banging on the door, the doorbell going off in a continuous ear-splitting wail.

“Stop!” she yelled. “You are gonna shred my eardrums!”

Fuming with anger, she wrenched open the door, feeling murderous enough to punch whoever was on the other side when her furious eyes fell on Kenma. Her anger immediately deflated, her mouth opening in shock. Kenma looked as if he had just walked out of a lake, his shirt torn and bloody, barely supporting a frail body up by his side.

“Yachi” he said, his voice frenzied. “Hinata’s been shot. Please help!”

Yachi blinked in surprise for a few seconds and then immediately reached out, pulling Hinata’s arms around her shoulder and dragging them both inside, the door banging shut behind them.

“Put him on the sofa”, she directed, and she could feel blood seeping onto her shoulder and arm. “Jesus! What the hell happened?”

Kenma didn’t say anything and she didn’t expect him to; he looked delirious and that more than anything caused a tiny shiver of fear to slowly take hold of her throat. She cursed, stumbling under the weight of the man between them and together somehow managing to drag Hinata over to one of the sofas and drop him on it as gently as they could. She let out her breath in a huff, looking down at the pale face that stood out starkly amidst the bright orange hair, her eyes quickly running through the various signs of injury visible on his body- the bloody rag tied around his arm and the blood seeping down his leg immediately registering in her shocked brain.

“Run up the stairs to my bedroom. Second door on the right.” Yachi said immediately. “The phone is on the bed. Get it. Now.”

She was already striding over to the kitchen, not looking back to see if Kenma did as he was told. There was a small trail of blood leading into the room from the front door and she shivered, her mind going on overdrive. He needed a doctor, that much was obvious but the fact that Kenma brought him over to her place instead of taking him back to one of the many shady back alley doctors that Akaashi kept in his pocket, was enough to let her know that this was serious gang business. Something she shouldn’t be getting involved in. She swore loudly; that also meant she couldn’t get the Nekoma team doctor to come over and she couldn’t take Hinata to a regular hospital either. She cursed again, her elbow hitting the corner of the kitchen island as she hurriedly pulled open the pantry doors, rummaging over the top shelf, pulling out the first aid box that she had stuffed there months ago at the insistence of Aone. There was only so much she could do but her mind had immediately flown to her burly bodyguard when she had first glanced at Hinata’s barely conscious form and she knew he would be able to help.

By the time she was running back to the living room, Kenma had her phone in his hand. She dropped the first aid box on the coffee table and snatched the phone away.

“There are gauges there” she pointed distractedly, unlocking her phone screen and immediately dialing a number and putting the phone to her ear. Aone picked up the phone on the second ring.

“Aone!” she almost screamed. “Get in here now! Kenma’s been shot! I mean his brother! He’s bleeding all over the place!”

She didn’t even wait for a response before cutting the call off, her hands shaking. Kenma was already ripping the bloody rags off of Hinata’s arm, the first aid box open on the floor, his face almost as pale as Hinata’s under the harsh lights of the living room. Yachi hesitated just once and finally making up her mind, she quickly dialed another number. This call was picked up on the third ring.

“Hitoka San?” an uncertain voice on the other end.

“Atsumu!” Yachi croaked. “Kenma’s brother has been shot, and the bleeding is not stopping.”

“Calm down Hitoka”, Miya’s voice immediately turned authoritative, any hint of uncertainty gone. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need a doctor.” Yachi said, biting her lower lip nervously. “Someone who can be discreet and keep their mouth shut.”

“You got it.” She could hear him getting on to his feet and shuffling around in the background. “Text me your address and I will be there as soon as possible.”

No sooner had she hung up that Aone burst into the room. The giant of a man took one look at her and then walked over to the sofa where Kenma was kneeling in front of the prone body, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood.

Yachi let out a sigh of relief and hurried over to join them, hoping against hope that reaching out to Miya Atsumu for help was not something that she would come to regret later.

* * *

Miya yawned loudly, morosely looking into his empty cup of coffee. With a sigh, he got up and made his way over to the break room, already feeling the caffeine draining out of his system. He was at Hitoka’s house till the wee hours of the morning, watching her have a nervous breakdown, memories of Kenma sitting quietly next to Hinata’s sedated form, still fresh in his mind. It was chaos when he had first barged into her house, the place smelling of blood, alcohol and strong antiseptic. It was a good thing her bodyguard knew what he was doing, for he had managed to stem the flow of blood significantly before the doctor shoved him aside and took over. He sighed, still a little stunned at getting that call from her last night. It had taken his brain a while to link the face associated with the caller id and when he had finally picked up the phone, he was expecting her to tell him off for the text message that he had sent earlier. He shook his head, inhaling the smell of coffee as he refilled his cup; boy was he wrong.

He started walking back to his desk, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t been able to concentrate much at work, this whole new development with Hinata was totally unexpected and his mind had been working to try and figure out how this incident fit into the bigger picture; if it could significantly change the overall dynamics of the case.

He reached his desk and pulled his chair out, setting the cup carefully next to his keyboard and sat down, unlocking his desktop and staring at the email that he had been trying to read earlier. Miya hated desk work of any type; hated it with every fibre of his being. He couldn’t understand how people could spend hours and hours glued to their desk, typing away on their keyboard while the world flew by around them. Well, it was not like complaining about it would do him any good. He grimaced, looking at the ridiculously long, boring email and wondering how to survive another hour before workday officially got over and he could just escape from the stifling office he was sitting in, in the downtown Johzenji building.

He kept getting distracted every few minutes, his mind going back to Hitoka and Hinata. He sighed, inclining his chair and resting his head back to look up at the office ceiling. He wasn’t very good at this whole “negotiation” thing, but it seemed like he must have done something right if she trusted him enough to reach out to him for help.

_“I owe you one Atsumu.”_

_“Oh, does that mean Nekoma-“_

_“In your dreams Miya!”_

He chuckled weakly, rubbing his knuckles over his eyes, squeezing them shut, a slow headache building up behind his temples. It’s not like he was a businessman, he mused wearily; it wasn’t part of his job description, but he knew he had to do whatever he could in order to keep up appearances. Being undercover required that of him and he would be damned if he let this get to him. He knew Yamaguchi was trying to be as accommodating as possible, to try and keep any suspicion away from the new hire, but it still stung that he couldn’t make any progress on making Hitoka budge.

He shook his head absentmindedly, letting out a long sigh. He could almost feel the stare of one of his co-workers burning a hole through the back of his neck. He didn’t have to turn around to imagine the look of disapproval on his face, the slight sound of distaste that he made was enough to get that point across very well. He found himself smirking, his eyes still aimed at the ceiling. He wondered how his co-worker would react if he really knew what Miya was up to.

He turned his head over to his left, towards the conference room; the door was slightly ajar and if he tried hard enough, he could hear faint voices from the discussion that was taking place inside. Even though he couldn’t really see who was talking, there was no mistaking the sound of that voice: Sugawara Koushi. That silver haired bastard sure had a silver tongue and if he hadn’t known better, Miya would have been completely fooled by the nice guy persona that Sugawara carried around him. Even as he stared at the door, he couldn’t help but remember the first time Oikawa had handed him the file with Sugawara’s name on it.

“Sugawara Koushi” Oikawa said as Miya had flipped through the pages of the file. “Completely clean, not even a speeding ticket to his name. Nice suburban family man, graduated top of class from Kyozen Tech and has been steadily climbing up the corporate ladder since then.”

The file had contained personal details, passport images, pictures from surveillance cameras and bank statements. 

“Pretty ordinary at first glance.” Miya had responded cautiously. The gleam in Oikawa’s eyes said otherwise. “But then you wouldn’t be talking to me if there wasn’t more to the story.”

Oikawa had beamed.

Miya shuddered at the memory of Oikawa smiling and even though he was sitting at his cube in the office right now, it still sent a shiver down his spine. He had worked long enough with Oikawa to know exactly what that smile meant; it meant he was about to get involved in something that would either get him shot or worse, get him stuck working a desk job.

And as luck would have it, desk job it was.

He had been gathering intelligence, trying to blend in with his surroundings by working on this Nekoma project that Yamaguchi had assigned to him. Yamaguchi knew he was under cover; Ushijima san had personally reached out to him for help but apart from the fact that he knew Miya was involved in a case that needed him to be in the Johzenji premises, Yamaguchi didn’t know why and preferred not to have any details either, and Ushijima san had kept his involvement minimum in order to make sure they don’t end up compromising the investigation accidentally.

The phone vibrating in his pocket was a welcome distraction from his thoughts and he straightened up, pulling the device out and looking at the screen to see a message blurb pop up. He could feel himself frowning as he unlocked the screen and a string of messages started popping up one after the other. He stared at his phone for a few seconds, a slight smile forming on his face. It looked like things were finally getting interesting. He stood up, locked his workstation, grabbed the cup of coffee and drained it in one go and tossing it in the waste basket, he reached out and and grabbed his keys.

As he walked out, Miya couldn’t help but turn towards his co-worker and flash him a brilliant smile, startling the man into accidently knocking his coffee all over the keyboard. He chuckled, feeling more awake than he had the entire day, the thrill of the hunt in the air.

It seemed like Oikawa was finally ready to kick some ass.

* * *


End file.
